


Falling for the Enemy

by moontear



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-21 18:04:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 49
Words: 102,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14920280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moontear/pseuds/moontear
Summary: Rey works the pit crew for the exotic racer Ben Solo, also known as the Crown Prince of Alderaan. It's her third day on the job, and she's ready to throttle the man. No one's ever told him no before, and it shows. Rey figures it's time for someone to put him in his place. But nothing ever goes as planned.





	1. That Woman

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try my hand at a light-hearted AU fic. I hope everyone is intrigued and wants to continue!
> 
> I've done my best so far as researching, but if anyone sees anything I wrote wrong, please don't hesitate to tell me! I like to get things right!

 

 

 

Rey had never seen such wear and tear on a vehicle before.

 

She'd been into cars for as long as she could remember. Her adoptive father had been into classic ones and had babied a 1964 Aston Martin DB5. He'd always loved Bond, he said. However, despite his enthusiasm, he'd had "great plans" for her. She was going to attend either law or medical school. She was going to one day have her own firm or be the chief of surgery at a hospital.

 

Shame she'd only ever really been good for one thing: repairing cars.

 

She could still recall her father's expression when she politely informed him that she was going to go to college, but not for what he wanted. Homicidal couldn't even begin to describe it. But all the money on her schools and her tutors! Oh, no! How dare that go to waste?

 

Rey could see why he was upset, she honestly could. But she'd been disappointing people since she was an abandoned toddler. She had a plan set to pay her father back that money, and school was on hold. She had to be true to herself. If that meant working with a personal pit team for Ben Solo… well. She was happy.

 

Or _mostly_ happy.

 

It was her third day on the job—her third day!—and she was ready to chuck a lug wrench at her boss' head. Not only was he completely insufferable, what with the way he looked down his nose at everyone, he had absolutely no idea of how to care for any of these cars. Porsche wouldn't continue to let him keep his own team if said team couldn't provide the proper maintenance.

 

Rey got to her feet, using a grimy rag to get the grease off her fingers. She was the only girl in the shop, and at nineteen-years-old, they considered her a baby. So far, it had been a bit rough. They wouldn't respect her, of course, so she was having to work her arse off more than she normally would.

 

She wanted to be here, with this team, going from country to country to compete in circuits. She was doing it with her own money, not anything borrowed from her father. There was a sense of freedom to be able to live that way, supporting herself, going where she wanted, _doing_ what she wanted. Although she did sense she'd only gotten this position because her father had thrown his weight around.

 

Details.

 

Prince Charming himself came through the door, his face impassive, almost bored. His hands were tucked loosely in his pockets, and he hadn't shaved, so there was a shadow of a beard on his face. The rest of him was the same as usual: fluffed hair, form-fitting button-down shirt, skinny tie, trousers, and nice shoes. He hadn't so much as looked at Rey since she'd started, which she was taking offense to, considering she'd be difficult to miss, the only crew member with a vagina and whatnot.

 

Having been inspecting this car for the past few hours, she was hot, she was hungry, and she was hangry. In short: she had picked up her lug wrench and was jiggling it in a somewhat threatening manner. For a few moments, she just stood there, wavering, mouth opening and closing.

 

All right, she was here, she had something to say, and she was going to say it.

 

"Ben Solo, if you wear out these tires so quickly one more time, I swear I will make everyone in the pit ignore you for five minutes the next time they blow out!"

 

Most of the sounds of the shop ceased for a heartbeat. Everyone was looking around to see who had yelled at their employer, and it was the new girl Rey. Their eyes went wide.

 

Like no one had ever told this man in his life what to do.

 

Fine. She'd be the first.

 

"Ben Solo—" she began.

 

"Who are you again?" Solo asked, his eyes narrowing. The shop took an audible breath. Rey resented that. She wasn't afraid of this man.

 

"Rey," she said. "Kenobi."

 

His expression grew withering.

 

Rey wet her lips. "Rey, I mean. Kenobi—Rey—uh—" By all that was holy, why hadn't he said anything? "What, are you going to just stand there all day and stare at me?" Uh-oh. Now she was doubly belligerent.

 

She forced herself to stand tall, the way her father had always told her to.

 

"Everyone get back to work!" Solo barked. They jumped to obey, and he crossed the shop to stand before Rey. He was tall, really tall. And, all right, so it was a little intimidating. Not to mention the bulk of muscle he was carrying around. Christ, when had she started to check out her boss?

 

"Threatening me in my own shop doesn't seem like the smartest of ideas," Solo said, softly enough that she had to strain to hear. Shops weren't exactly quiet and cozy. "Where do you get off?"

 

Rey took a breath and set her jaw. She met his brown eyes with her own hazel ones. "It's not that I get off, _sir_ , it's that I'm concerned for the cars. They can't defend themselves, you see."

 

"You get paid to fix them. Handsomely, I might add," Solo growled.

 

"Above average, if we're being honest," Rey snapped. She didn't know what it was, she didn't know how he got under her skin so quickly. She was an inherently grumpy person, but he made her want to yank her hair out. Or deck him. Or both.

 

"Maybe too honest," Solo returned. "And without grounds. My cars are fine."

 

"If you don't quit wearing on your tires that way, a number of things are going to happen. The most obvious: they'll blow out. The second: the number of pit stops you'll need to take to replace those tires are going to cost you very valuable seconds. And, since the rest of the crew is afraid to tell you, lately you're riding too hard on your clutches, which is a rookie mistake." Rey pressed her lips together.

 

Solo scoffed. He stepped in until she was leaning against the modified Porsche 911 Turbo, one hand on the roof of the car, the other on the window next to her elbow. He was invading her personal space, and it was highly tempting to put her greasy hands on his beautiful white shirt.

 

"This is sexual harassment," Rey informed him. She was pretty sure, anyway.

 

"You're in my shop. I pay you to do one thing: _fix my cars_. If you don't like it, please feel free to leave," Solo said. "Many have before you, and you won't be the last. Anything else you'd like to add?"

 

"Yes," Rey replied.

 

Solo's brows contracted—furrowed. He genuinely had thought that would be the end of it, it seemed.

 

"You're a jackass," Rey said.

 

Solo's face darkened. He took a step back, his mouth opening in disbelief. He cast an inquiring glance around to confirm that it had happened, but no one was meeting his gaze. A red flush came to rest high on his cheekbones. He snapped his jaw shut and did an about-face, storming from the shop.

 

Rey couldn't quite hide her smirk as she returned to her inspection.

 

The man might be the Crown Prince of Alderaan, but that didn't mean anyone had to put up with his crap.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben couldn't believe the nerve of that woman!

 

How dare _she_ , employed by his _generosity_ , get off on calling _him_ the jackass after she verbally assaulted him in his own shop? To stand there so belligerently, thinking she had done nothing wrong! It was bullshit!

 

He had half a mind to go back in there and fire her. He knew precisely who she was, and her having to be gone so soon after starting would be a _damned_ shame.

 

To stand there! Like that!

 

He kicked some pebbles across the pavement. He was standing outside his shop, about to leave. His own employee had driven him from the premises, and he wasn't going to do a single thing about it.

 

And he had no idea why.


	2. The Stalker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Here we go, round two!

 

Rey Kenobi, adopted daughter of Ben Kenobi, who was a professor at the University of Oxford and had written several best-selling novels revolving around psychiatry.

 

Rey Kenobi, aged nineteen with a height of 5'7", and with brown hair and hazel eyes.

 

Rey Kenobi, who had a very expensive and private education, and had turned her back on Oxford and a number of other prestigious universities.

 

And for what?

 

Working in a pit crew for Ben Solo.

 

Ben frowned, peering at Rey from around the corner. She was buried under the hood of a car, her fingers making quick work of an engine. He'd been watching her for something like five minutes, and he had to admit that she seemed to know what she was doing. That didn't mean he had to like it. He hated it, in fact. If she were an idiot, it'd be no problem to fire her.

 

What was worse was that after she'd called him a jackass, the rest of the crew had come to respect her.

 

Traitors!

 

It didn't help that her ass was so tight and would mold perfectly into his hands.

 

Ben growled softly beneath his breath and hid entirely behind the wall. This was foolishness. It was his shop. He had every right to walk around and do what he wanted, how he wanted, so long as it didn't break any laws.

 

What the hell was she even doing in America?!

 

It didn't matter that America wasn't his homeland. It was his _home_ , and she was pissing all over it.

 

"If you're done skulking about, can you come here for a second?" he heard Rey's voice ring out.

 

She wasn't talking to him. She hadn't even seen him.

 

"Mr. Solo?" she called.

 

God damn it.

 

He pulled himself into something resembling composure and walked around the wall casually, as though he hadn't been skulking. His eyes flitted about the rest of his shop before landing on her. She was wiping her hands off on a cloth, her expression detached in thought.

 

"Don't call me that," he said.

 

"What would you have me call you, then?" Rey asked, using the back of her wrist to wipe perspiration off her forehead.

 

"Ben," he replied, and God help him, he once again did not know _why_. No one called him Ben. No one. He didn't permit it. It was either Solo or Ben Solo. Well, outside of his royal titles, of course, but he preferred not to be called by those, either.

 

"I'm not calling you Ben," Rey said. She pointed to the engine and began to spout off about something she'd spotted wrong. He barely heard her. He was too captivated by the shape of her earlobe.

 

"Mm," he said, like he was actually listening.

 

She finished with whatever it was she was saying and looked up at him expectantly.

 

He blinked back at her and was proud that it was a frigid blink, a blink that said he was utterly bored by anything she'd had to say. Which wasn't entirely untrue. She had very distracting ears. Ears that did _not_ need to be noticed, and okay, it was time to go.

 

So he turned, and he walked out.

 

"Mr. Solo!" she cried in exasperation. "Solo! You have nothing to say about the problem?!"

 

"Figure it out!" he said. "That's what I pay you for."

 

* * *

 

 

Rey always took long showers, and even then, she could never quite get the grease out from under her nails. She scrubbed at them extra hard now, her thoughts circling around Solo and what a jerk he was. One would think he'd be interested in his own damn cars. But nooo, he just wanted to know they were running, wanted to know they were able to race.

 

Bastard.

 

She turned off the water and opened the door to her shower. She lived in a place that would make her father break out in hives if he ever saw it, but it was all she could afford right now. And it wasn't _too_ bad. She wasn't in an unsafe neighborhood, and the beach was five minutes away. And besides, she'd decorated it with her own things to make it homey.

 

As she toweled her hair dry, she thought of Solo again. It was difficult not to. He went out of his way to be a total dick to her whenever he was in the shop. Two weeks had passed since the day she'd called him a jackass, and they had to leave the country soon for a circuit, so the crew told her he'd been in the shop more than usual. He tasked her with all sorts of extra side work and ensured that she went home with every bone in her body aching.

 

She wondered if he was hazing her. If not, he was most definitely trying to get her to quit. Why he wouldn't just fire her and instead torture her was beyond her own comprehension. But she wasn't a quitter.

 

Her father had never let her be.

 

Rey grabbed her phone on the way to the kitchen, still toweling her hair with one hand. She had a text from Poe Dameron, the man she was dating but couldn't bring herself to be in a committed relationship with. It wasn't his fault. Like Solo, he raced, and oftentimes she'd heard him referred to as the Disney Prince of the circuit world.

 

She'd met him fresh out of school. It was entirely coincidence, one of those cliché meet cutes where she was in the grocery aisle and he'd accidentally bumped into her. He'd flashed a grin her way that had made her insides grow soft and gooey, and so the summer of Dameron had begun. It was a year later, and not much had changed.

 

Like the fact that she still didn't want to be in a relationship.

 

Maybe there was something wrong with her. Poe was handsome, charming, a perfect gentleman.

 

And, like the terrible person she apparently was, she was bored. Completely and utterly bored. They'd had a magical summer together, yes, but… Well, she didn't want it to end. But she didn't want it to go anywhere, either. And when she'd tried to express this to Poe, he'd said they could continue on as they had been; they could see other people.

 

Rey didn't buy this for a moment. Poe had all but said he was in love with her. He wasn't dating anyone else that she knew of, and he would have told her, because he told her _everything_.

 

Was it because he didn't challenge her enough?

 

She bit her lip and thumbed through his text messages. She couldn't say she hadn't been on dates with other people. She had. And none of them challenged her enough, either. She didn't want to get into a relationship of those proportions if she didn't feel… _it_.

 

Not love. She wasn't sure if she believed in love.

 

But something…

 

A spark, perhaps.

 

When Poe kissed her, it was… nice. Any other boys she'd kissed had had nice kisses, too. But there was no excitement, no sense of adventure.

 

She'd tried to break it off. She felt too much like she was leading him on. But he kept insisting he was fine, and he continued to date her, and she wished so badly they could be best friends. Which in itself was part of the problem, because she didn't want to hurt him, because he _was_ her best friend.

 

What the hell could she really do?

 

_Poe: How was your day?_

_Poe: It's not surprising Solo's an asshole. He's got a reputation._

_Poe: Since we're in the States, how about we get lunch sometime soon before we leave again?_

_Poe: Rey, are you okay?_

 

She set her phone aside, Poe's texts unanswered.

 

It was like she'd been in some sort of spell until a fortnight ago. A spell where she'd been content to date other people, to date Poe.

 

Now the spell was over, and she just wanted to be alone.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey had a stalker.

 

She pushed her grocery cart down the bread aisle, arms folded over the handle bar and slouching into it. She eyed the peanut butter—so different in the States—that Poe was always enthused over. She'd told him she would try the honey peanut butter, but all she could do was stare at it, lost in thought.

 

Why was she so keen in breaking things off with Poe? She hadn't felt rushed before. Now suddenly she was? Pieces weren't connecting together, and she didn't like it very much.

 

She made her way to the cereal aisle, wondering if Solo was going to say hello or if he was going to continue on with his patented skulk.

 

American cereal was _loaded_ with sugar. She passed the Wheaties and the Fruit Loops and the Fruity Pebbles and grabbed a box of Cheerios, the plain kind. She tossed that into her cart. Next up was coffee. She got espresso grinds and thought longingly of her father's coffee maker. He wasn't pretentious about many things, but with coffee, he considered himself a connoisseur. It had spread to Rey. Unfortunately, she couldn't afford to be that way anymore.

 

Round to the next aisle. She did it slowly so that she could see where Solo was. The bastard pretended to be looking at the nutrient list on the cereal box he was using to block his face.

 

She rolled her eyes.

 

After three more aisles, she'd had enough. She wheeled her cart around quickly, and he couldn't hide any longer. His eyes widened, and then he smoothed his expression back into its usual mask.

 

"Fancy seeing you here," he said.

 

"This is stalking," she told him. "Is this what you do? Stalk and sexually harass your employees?"

 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said in an impressively even voice. He gave a bored sigh and shoved the bag of chips he'd been holding back onto its shelf. "I came here to pick up a few things. Maybe it's _you_ who is stalking _me_."

 

Rey snorted.

 

His ears turned bright red. "Oh, look at the time. I have someplace to be."

 

And then he jetted out of there like the whole building was about to go down in flames.

 

What an odd ball.

 

Rey peered down into her grocery cart and wondered how long he was going to continue stalking her for, because this was really growing old.

 

It was definitely _not_ endearing.

 

Definitely not.


	3. Know Thy Enemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, I want to thank everyone for their support so far! A side note for those who haven't read my other fic, The Bond That Ties Us: Sitrine is an original character from it. (He's a Knight of Ren.) I included him in here because I love him, and I have no shame. If you haven't read Bond, it's okay, you don't need to for this fic for Sitrine.
> 
> Carry on!
> 
> Oh, also, I don't own the song "Take On Me" by a-ha.

 

Rey had never considered herself the type of girl to dream about being royalty. She was very practical, almost to a fault. It made her hardheaded and stubborn. It made people who knew her want to yank their hair out at times. She never minded this. She knew who she was and what she wanted, and that was more than could be said for a great many people.

 

While every little girl had been planning their princess parties, Rey had been at her father's side, her head under the hood of a car. She hadn't made very many friends in her father's community, much to his chagrin. But he'd always taken her aside and told her that she should be true to herself, no matter what. And to Rey, being true to one's self meant letting go of some princess fantasy and pursuing a life she could do something about.

 

So why, then, did dreams such as these keep occurring?

 

Ben threw her against a wall. A tiara was askew on her head, and they both laughed. He lovingly pulled it from her hair so as not to tug strands of her hair too hard. Then he pressed kisses all along her face, saving her lips for last. Rey sighed and let him, tilting her head back, exposing her throat for kisses there, too. He was all too happy to oblige.

 

"You're not so bad," she heard herself say.

 

He scoffed and dropped to his knees. His hands circled her hips. His mouth—

 

_Taaaakeeee ooooonnnn meeeeee (take on me)_

_Taaaakeeee meeeeee ooooonnnn (take me on)_

_I'll be gone in a day or twooooooooooo_

Rey groaned and fumbled for her phone. She fell off the side of the bed and landed hard on the floor, tangled up in her sheets. She sighed. She was going to murder Sitrine. She was going to have to password lock her phone so he'd stay the hell out of it.

 

Take On Me. Really?

 

Which reminded her… They had their usual lunch date once Rey went on break today. _If_ she went on break. Solo kept cracking that whip of his, working her to the bone. She couldn't believe she'd called him Ben in her dream. She couldn't believe she'd _dreamt_ of him—again. What the hell was wrong with her mind?

 

Well, the truth of the matter was, she couldn't control her dreams. They meant nothing.

 

So there.

 

Her phone buzzed again.

 

She picked it up and held it above her.

 

_Solo: Get here. Now._

Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear.

 

_Rey: I don't like your tone very much._

_Solo: It's texting. There is no tone._

_Rey: That's a load of crock._

_Solo: If you can spend time texting, that means you can get to the shop. So again: get here. Now._

Rey didn't reply. Mostly because she didn't have a response that wouldn't definitely get her fired this time, and she really needed this job.

 

She thumbed through her contact list.

 

_Rey: It's possible I may not make it to lunch._

_Sitrine: Nooooooo! :( :( :( :(_

* * *

 

 

"What couldn't wait?" Rey asked the moment she was in the shop and across from Solo. She had just finished putting on her coveralls. "What could you have possibly needed from me before I was due here that another crew member couldn't have attended to?"

 

"Stop questioning me," he said. "It's annoying."

 

"Yeah, well, your face is annoying," she muttered.

 

He looked at her sharply. "What was that?"

 

"I said it's early in the morning," she replied, but not too quickly.

 

He eyed her suspiciously.

 

"Well, come on, then. What's so important?"

 

The next four hours were hell. He'd handed her the task of inspecting every single car, with a very specific, tedious task list to check off. She was not allowed to have any help, and it had to be done before she left for the day. He was definitely hazing her, she knew it without a doubt now. But that was just fine. She would rise to the occasion, and he would be the one looking like an utter piece of shite.

 

 _And_ she would have her lunch break to boot.

 

What she hadn't counted on was Solo practically breathing down her neck. He was hovering in the worst way, and nobody liked a hoverer. The rest of the team were giving her sympathetic looks. None of them had ever been on his bad side like this. Rey didn't understand it much. She'd thought he'd been stalking her because he'd wanted to get to know her better and had the emotional capacity of a five-year-old. Now she was reassessing. It had to be the whole, "Know thy enemy."

 

She didn't have time for this! They weren't in grade school anymore!

 

Well, neither of them had ever attended a normal school, but that wasn't the point. The _point_ was that he was acting like a child, and she was sick of it.

 

At half past three, she put her inspection list aside and climbed out of her coveralls, under which she had a mostly presentable outfit for lunch. She hung them up on a peg and washed her hands in a sink as well as she could. Then she grabbed her purse and made to leave.

 

Solo came out of nowhere and blocked the exit.

 

"Where do you think you're going?" he demanded.

 

"To lunch," she retorted. "I don't know if you've noticed or not, but this _is_ America, and there _are_ laws firmly in place that state I have to have a break if I've worked so many hours. Kindly step aside."

 

"Well, don't be gone too long, you still have a lot to do," he half-snarled as he stalked away.

 

How she had had another wicked dream about him, she would never know.

 

* * *

 

 

"Do I want to know who the handsome fellow is that's watching us from across this delightful little café you've led me to?"

 

"No," Rey groaned.

 

"Are you certain?" Sitrine looked round.

 

"Don't! Pretend he isn't there. I do." Rey bit into her food. It was a club sandwich, and it was every bit as delicious as it had looked on the menu.

 

"Fine, fine," Sitrine laughed.

 

He was nearly as tall as Solo, but that was where the resemblance ended. His golden brown hair was wavy enough to curl at the edges, and his eyes were a deep, summer green. He was muscular, too, but not quite so built. It was more of a slender touch. His face was remarkably handsome, enough to turn everyone's heads in the diner. That had used to bother Rey, but after a while, it was, "Meh."

 

He'd come over with her to the States on her father's wishes. Sitrine was a former student of his, and he was around a decade older than Rey. He practiced psychology and was working to get his license here. He didn't seem intent on going back to England, but he did give her father weekly updates.

 

She was never going to be on her own.  

 

"So why call me here and not Finn?" Sitrine poked a chip into ketchup.

 

 _Fry_ , Rey reminded herself. She was doing her best to learn the local lingo, and sometimes she still slipped up.

 

"I can't talk to Finn about this," Rey said around another bite of sandwich.

 

"Not even Rose?"

 

Rey rolled her eyes and waited to finish chewing before she spoke again. "Finn would tell me to report him, and Rose would say the same thing. I don't want to report him. I like my job just fine. And, anyway, this isn't what I called you here for!"

 

"You mean you weren't here for my devilishly good looks?" Sitrine waggled an eyebrow.

 

Rey kicked his shin under the table.

 

"Ow! Bloody—!"

 

"I'm having dreams about him," Rey said, lowering her voice. "Sexual dreams. How do I make them stop?"

 

Sitrine laughed so hard tears came to his eyes and Rey had to kick his shin again. "Oh, that's downright adorable," he said around his chuckles. "The two of you are hopeless."

 

She took a sip of her Dr. Pepper, her brows furrowed in consternation. "What do you mean?"

 

Her friend tilted his head. "You mean you haven't figured it out yet?"

 

"Don't do that, don't… psychoanalyze me, just tell me," Rey sighed. She lifted her glass for another sip of soda.

 

"He's in love with you."

 

Rey's soda left her mouth in a spray as she choked. Once she had thumped her chest a few times and Sitrine had dabbed at the soda on the table, she spoke, wheezing. "Stop it. He is not."

 

"It sounds like it to me. Why else would he torture you?"

 

"Because he's a sadist!"

 

"Then why not torture anyone else? Why follow you around?"

 

"You're wrong!" Rey stood, grabbed her purse, and threw money on the table. Sitrine's mouth fell open. "You're wrong, and I have to go!"

 

"If he follows you around and you don't dislike it, shouldn't that tell you something?!" he called after her.

 

The door bell jingled. Rey was gone.

 

Sitrine and sighed and turned to where the prince was. Solo hastily lifted his menu in front of his face.

 

Solo was proverbially pulling Rey's pigtails, and neither of them recognized what it meant. Or they did and were just ignoring it.

 

Behind his menu, Ben's face was crimson. He swallowed, his fingers trembling, gripping harder at the menu. He hadn't caught the entire conversation, just that last bit. The bit about Ben following Rey around, and Rey not disliking it.

 

It was rubbish. Pure rubbish.

 

Then why did his heart skip just a teeny little bit?

 

No. He hated her. He wanted her to quit. She was insufferable. Nobody challenged him the way she did. That was all it was. Nothing more.

 

 _Nothing_ more.

 

And the sooner his heart recognized that, the better.

 

Maybe it was because he'd gone too long without a lay. He'd been busy lately, and his hand had been fine enough company. And picking out a woman was tedious. They all wanted to be around him because of his titles, and that was where it ended. If he wanted a brown-noser, he could very well—

 

There was a thump, and he looked up to see Rey's friend sliding into the booth.

 

"So here is the deal," the man informed him. "You hurt her, I cut your balls off. Are we clear?"

 

Ben sneered. "Do you have any idea who you're talking to?"

 

The man cricked his neck and cracked his knuckles before him. "Sure do. You're the Crown Prince of Alderaan. Who doesn't know that? But Rey is my best friend, and that comes first. So I'm telling you now—if you hurt her, I will personally see to it that you—"

 

"Are you in love with her or something?" Ben interrupted.

 

He expected the other man to blush, get embarrassed. Instead he laughed.

 

"Rey is like my little sister. I've known her for a very long time. But you, my fine, handsome, _handsome_ man—" The man made a trigger finger at him, one eye closed. "Watch yourself. And figure out your shite quickly. She's got a tough exterior, but she's still a woman."

 

"And?" Ben replied, just to be belligerent. He hated this person already.

 

The brunet stood and had the audacity to ruffle Ben's hair.

 

He winked and left the diner.

 

Ben stared down at his menu again, but he couldn't read the words.

 

What.

 

The.

 

Fuck.


	4. In Other Words, Hold My Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone's continued support is super awesome! (I feel like I say this a lot, and I apologize, but it's still the truth!) I'm really happy that so many people were pleased with Sitrine's appearance. I love Sitrine myself, and it's highly flattering to know an original character of mine wormed his way into so many hearts.

 

"I'm just concerned for you. You're my favorite child."

 

"I'm your only child, Dad," Rey reminded him. And these overseas calls were astronomical in price, but she supposed he could afford it.

 

"Sitrine said you're living in the ghetto."

 

Rey cursed inwardly, promising to smack Sitrine over the head the next time she saw him. "He's exaggerating just like he always does. You've never taken him seriously before." She continued whisking her eggs for breakfast.

 

"He's all I have to go on!" Ben Kenobi protested. "You won't accept my Facebook request."

 

She raised her eyebrows as she poured her eggs into the skillet. She was never going to accept her father's Facebook request.

 

"I only wish you would allow me to help you," her father continued. "I know we've had our differences lately… and I still feel the same about your career choices… but you _are_ my daughter, and I want you to be safe."

 

"I am safe, Dad," she assured him. "And you know I can take care of myself if it comes to it—which it _won't_ —because you made me take any Martial Arts class under the sun."

 

"I don't know, Rey… Working with all of these men, traveling through foreign countries… How does this seem safe to you?"

 

It was the same argument over and over again. Rey suppressed a sigh.

 

And then—

 

No. She couldn't. It would be terrible.

 

But it would get her father off her arse…

 

"Did Sitrine neglect to mention Prince Ben Solo?" Rey asked casually. She used her spatula to pile the eggs onto her plate. Eggs were about all she could afford for breakfast right now, and she needed breakfast. The days were too long to not have it.

 

"Yes." Kenobi's sigh crackled over the line. "I knew precisely who you were working for when I got you employed at that job."

 

So it _had_ been him.

 

"And no, it doesn't make me feel any better. A prince or not, he's still a man."

 

"I can't be a nun, Dad," Rey reminded him.

 

"If you would just accept a little money so you could afford a better apartment—"

 

"'Kay, love you, gotta go, bye." Rey signed off.

 

She sighed.

 

Fathers.

 

She loved him dearly, but she needed her independence. It was very important to her. Hopefully, eventually, he would cotton on to that. In the meantime, she had to field his calls and navigate a minefield of guilt whenever she did take those calls.

 

* * *

 

 

There wasn't much time before they went overseas, and so Rey decided she had to act. Just because Solo was a prince, it didn't mean he could go around stalking her at every opportunity. He'd even shown up in her neighborhood one day when she was walking to the beach, claiming there was a good sushi restaurant in the area and that she was paranoid.

 

Right.

 

The nearest sushi restaurant was fifteen miles away.

 

Jackass.

 

Enough was enough. She could either try and get a restraining order (somehow that seemed like it'd be difficult since he was a prince), or she could fight back with everything he'd already given her. That last one was Sitrine's strategy. It involved stalking him in return. In fact, it involved a lot more than stalking him.

 

_Rey: Are you certain about this?_

_Sitrine: Super certain!_

_Rey: I don't know…_

_Sitrine: (unicorn emote) You have this! Show him what's what!_

_Rey: I don't know…_

_Sitrine: You're a broken record. Just do it!_

_Rey: Okay, Shia._

_Sitrine: Don't let your dreams be dreams._

_Rey: …_

_Sitrine: Yesterday you said tomorrow!_

_Rey: I'm ignoring your texts now._

_Sitrine: Believe in the me that believes in you!_

_Rey: Now you're just mixing speeches._

_Sitrine: I thought you weren't going to text me anymore._

_Sitrine: Rey._

_Sitrine: Rey, seriously, you have this._

_Sitrine: Rey!_

_Sitrine: All right, I'm assuming you're following the plan. Good luck._

_Sitrine: …And don't let your dreams be dreams! ;)_

Not much made Rey nervous. Her father had raised her to be confident in everything she did. Not only that, she believed in herself and had a high self-esteem. It would take a lot to make her feel like she was two inches tall—it would take a lot for her to embarrass herself to the degree she was about to. But if the end result was what she wanted, then it was a worthy sacrifice.

 

She stood on the street outside of _Kamino_ , the actual good sushi place in town. Maybe Solo had inspired himself when he'd lied on the spot. It was a semi-formal dress code because the restaurant was also a Japanese steakhouse. The kind where groups of people gathered around a table where a chef prepared their food in front of them.

 

_Finn: Lunch?_

Shite.

 

She didn't get to see Finn nearly enough. But…

 

_Rey: Can't today. Tomorrow?_

_Finn: Can't. Gotta go to a wedding with Rose. Holdo finally got hitched._ (/◕ヮ◕)/

_Rey: You're happy about that?_

_Finn: See the emote._

_Rey: Yeah, it's a happy emote._

_Finn: But look into its eyes. Look into its eyes!_

_Rey: …Yeah, you're right. It's a cry for help._

_Finn: Okay, hit you up later._

_Rey: Bye._

Rey inhaled and stared up at the sign for _Kamino._ It was now or never.

 

She fluffed her hair. She always wore it up, kept it out of the way at work. Now it fell in soft layers around her shoulders—she'd used the straightener to make it extra sleek. Her makeup was spot on, with a shade of lipstick to match her clothing. A white, lacy number that fell to just above her knees and accentuated what little curves she _did_ have. She knew she cleaned up well.

 

As she walked into the restaurant, the temperature cooled by about fifteen degrees. There was a host to greet her, asking her if she had a party.

 

"I do," she said. "Solo."

 

"Right this way," he told her.

 

Her heart began to beat faster. Sitrine was wrong. This was a terrible idea!

 

The sound of the restaurant was quiet, filled with that quiet Oriental music staple of Asian restaurants everywhere in America. They passed empty room after room. _Kamino_ must not have a lot of business during lunch hours.

 

The host stopped in a room where six people were gathered around a table and then departed. Menus were still out, glasses of water in place. She'd arrived just in time.

 

Solo, a girl on his right, and what looked to be friends but probably weren't because he had no friends…

 

Bodyguards, she thought. So he did have them.

 

Everyone looked up at her entrance, curious, but it was Solo who stared at her. At first, it wasn't the stare she'd expected—the furious one. It was… different. His eyes took her in from top to bottom, lingered on her legs.

 

"Hello, _Ben_ ," she said as she took the seat next to him. It was the only one open. Perfect.

 

"I'm sorry, I don't think we know you," the girl said.

 

"Oh, I'm Rey. I'm Ben's friend," Rey replied with a sugary sweet smile.

 

" _No one_ calls him Ben," a man scoffed.

 

Rey let her smile turn up about ten notches. "Like I said. I'm Ben's friend. And he was so kind to invite me to lunch." She turned to him. "Sorry I'm late. I hope you didn't wait too long without me."

 

"No," he said stiffly. "You're right on time."

 

Rey looked through the menu and tried to keep her expression bland at the prices. The girl on the other side of Solo was clearly trying to recapture his attention and wasn't doing a very good job of it. Why? Because Solo was once again boring holes into the side of Rey's head.

 

"Yes?" she asked.

 

He leaned into her, close to her ear, and his voice lowered. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

 

She held up the menu to cover their faces, offering more privacy as she whispered back. "I'm doing to you what you always do to me."

 

Solo let out another one of his soft growls. "I don't know what you're talking about, and even if I did, it wouldn't matter."

 

"Oh?" she replied. "And why is that?"

 

"Because I don't like you, and I'm trying to find out more about you," he said rather frankly.

 

"I don't like you, either," she promised him.

 

"Then _why_ are you here?" he hissed.

 

"Come on, Solo. Use the education your parents gave you and connect the dots."

 

It took him a moment. When it finally sunk in, he gave a small, outraged gasp. "You have no reason not to like me!"

 

"And you have no reason not to like me." Rey smiled widely. "Now what should I get? The teriyaki chicken or the spicy tuna rolls?"

 

* * *

 

 

"So how did revenge go?" Sitrine asked on the phone later that evening.

 

"Perfectly. I don't think he'll be bothering me again. He definitely didn't appreciate the tables being turned." She smirked.

 

"Oh, he'll bother you again," Sitrine said.

 

"What?" Rey frowned. "Then why make me do this?"

 

"To level the playing field. I have to go to sleep, got an early morning. Goodnight, Kenobi."

 

"Goodnight," she grumbled.

 

Her phone dinged two seconds after she put it down. She thumbed the screen open.

 

_Solo: Never do that to me again._

_Rey: I'll stop if you stop._

He didn't respond, and so Rey went to take a shower.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben sprawled across his bed and stared up at his ceiling.

 

Rey had looked fucking beautiful. And God, those creamy, long legs. He'd wanted to put his hands on them and push them up under her skirt and—

 

Fuck.

 

What was that? Her showing up? That had been her whole point, to say she didn't like being stalked, so he should hate it, too? Psh. He wouldn't stop following her until he knew every single thing about her, and then he was going to destroy her. She'd embarrassed him in front of his entire crew, and now none of them showed him the same respect as before.

 

But he couldn't bring himself to actually destroy her. He knew enough about her. More than enough. Enough to quit following her around, even. Although he should have hired a P.I., that might have been less time consuming but expensive. So he'd done it himself, because despite his burning hatred for her, she was… fascinating.

 

That fire in those hazel eyes. The way she set her jaw. The challenge in her expression.

 

He'd never been challenged about anything, at least not since he could remember.

 

That must be it, he realized. And now that he knew, he could get over the whole thing and fire her and never have to look at her again.

 

Ben picked up his phone.

 

_Ben: Never do that to me again._

_Annoying Girl of Extreme Proportions: I'll stop if you stop._

He harrumphed and held his phone to his chest. She didn't listen to him! She was supposed to do what he told her. She was his employee!

 

He stood up and got ready for bed. That involved a scalding shower to burn away the thoughts of Rey and a towel to dry off. Then he climbed into bed without a stitch of clothing on. He'd always slept naked. It was more comfortable to him that way.

 

Ben eyed the phone on his nightstand where it was charging. It was late. Well, too late to be texting. It was almost eleven.

 

_Ben: A party is being held tomorrow night for our kick-off tour. Attendance is mandatory._

He shut his phone off entirely and shoved it back onto his nightstand with a clatter. He growled, disgusted with himself. There _was_ a party being held, but it was mostly for the drivers and their dates. Crew members weren't _not_ invited, they just never came. It was like an unspoken rule. Yet he'd told Rey she had to be there.

 

There were a lot of things wrong with him. He'd known that since he was a small child and his mother couldn't understand why he refused to interact with any other children his age. And life being what it was, he had even more things wrong with him as the years passed. But for the life of him, he couldn't figure _this_ one out—Rey Kenobi.

 

She drove him mad.

 

She made him want to grab her insubordinate face and kiss her until she grew submissive to him like she should have from day one.

 

This last thought was a drowsy one, and it didn't chase him into sleep, leaving it forgotten in the morning.


	5. Stranded, Reaching Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The anticipated party, part one!

 

There was a spring rain with a light amount of thunder. Ben and Rey gazed out at the grounds from beneath the shelter of the gazebo. It was evening, and so the sky was already darker from the clouds. Neither of them spoke, the tips of their fingertips almost touching where they stood side by side.

 

Rey was calm, centered, both feelings she never experienced around him. It was easy to listen to the rain pound on the roof above their heads. It was even easier to watch it fall in streamers off the eaves. The grounds were quickly growing soaked, water pooling in places, washing away grass.

 

A particularly loud peal of thunder rent through the air, and he looked at her. She could barely make out his face in the darkness, but a sliver of moonlight managed to prevail enough to see his eyes. His deep, lonely, tortured eyes.

 

 _We should really move inside_ , drifted to her lips, went unuttered. The storm was moving closer. That meant more lightning. That meant more—

 

"Why don't you see me?"

 

Rey swallowed. "What?"

 

He took a step closer to her, not that there was much space between them to begin with. "Why… don't… you… see… me…?" he asked, putting enunciation behind each word.

 

"I do see you," she said. He was being absurd. "You're right in front of me. I'm looking at you."

 

Ben tilted his head. "Rey…"

 

She didn't think she liked it very much when he said her name like that. It was causing shivers in places that were decidedly off limits when it came to this man.

 

The rain began to fall harder, the thunder deepened to signify the storm was almost on top of them. And here they were, in a lone gazebo on the grounds, not a better shelter in sight.

 

"Rey," he whispered.

 

"What?" The mist coming off the rain was making her hair stick to her face in tendrils. The shoulders of her shirt grew damp, along with the backs of her pants legs. The air was cool like it was in England, making her long for home.

 

"Rey," he whispered again.

 

Her mouth opened helplessly. "I don't—why—what is it?"

 

He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her in until their foreheads were almost touching. From this vantage point, there was no missing the intensity of his eyes. He looked so seriously into her own now, and she counted the eye freckles in his irises.

 

"See me," he said.

 

His breath caressed her lips, their mouths were so close.

 

Rey's lashes fluttered shut despite herself. "Ben…" And her stomach twisted, because she'd been calling and thinking of him by his first name this entire time. That was dangerous territory. She'd wanted him to stay Solo.

 

"See me," he whispered, his lips grazing hers.

 

"I don't…" She trailed off, her hands on his chest, fingers curling in against his shirt. She swallowed again, gaining courage, and tentatively lifted her eyes back to his. The intensity hadn't changed in the slightest, and a frisson of electricity ran under her skin.

 

"See me," he breathed.

 

Rey's eyes opened to the dawn of a real day, her phone alarm spouting, Turn On Me. She barely heard it, her gaze turned up to her ceiling, the sound of rain in her ears, the promise of his lips just so barely touching hers.

 

"But I _do_ see you," she whispered to no one.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey was shaken at work. The dream had been so… _real_. When she'd woken up, she could still feel the mist against her face. The only consistency between the two realms was her pounding heart.

 

This was so… utterly ridiculous.

 

It was Ben-bloody-Solo. She'd spent quite a lot of time Googling him recently. That was likely the case for the contents of her dreams. And, she tried to remind herself somewhat feebly, this dream _hadn't_ been sexual.

 

No.

 

It had just been entirely depressing.

 

"I hope you're ready for tonight," Solo said, summoned as always by her thoughts of him. It was growing uncanny. "Not going to have much time to get ready between when the shop closes and when the party begins."

 

She gave him a confused look. "Oh, I'm not staying late tonight. I thought none of us were—the party being mandatory—"

 

"It _is_ mandatory," he sneered. "The rule is that generally you get there when you get there. But since _you_ are the last one in the shop tonight, I worry you won't make it to the party. I mean, your employment is contingent on it, after all."

 

Rey opened her mouth to really give it to him; there wasn't even a tool with which to injure him in immediate grasping range. Smugness pinched the corners of his eyes as he folded his arms. He thought he was so fecking clever.

 

_"See me."_

The flash of memory made her flinch.

 

"What, Kenobi? Nothing to say this time? That's a pleasant first." He snapped on his feet as he turned from her.

 

"I'll be there," she said to his back. He paused but didn't look back. "I have a date. I can't stand him up."

 

That did the trick. Solo whirled to her, pointing to his side, rage contorting his face.

 

"I never said you could bring a date!"

 

Rey hesitated. They had their awkward back and forth game, sure, but… she hadn't seen him genuinely lose his temper like that, and over her having a date, no less. What did he care? He hated her. He was punishing her enough by making her go to this party full of fancy pants people who wanted nothing to do with her. It wasn't doing anyone any favors by enforcing the crew to go.

 

"Solo," she said slowly. "You can't… dictate if I can bring someone or not."

 

He drew himself back to his full height at an attempt for composure. "Actually, I can," he said in a much calmer voice. "No one is allowed a plus one."

 

"Okay," she said sincerely.

 

"Oka—" His stare was a mixture of suspicion and confusion. "That's all you have to say? You can't bring a date. Period."

 

"I've got to get back to work," Rey told him. "You let me know how that envy thing works out for you, though."

 

At the time she said it, she only wanted to see Solo lose his temper. She succeeded: he sputtered nonsensically for a minute, turned beet red, and then vamoosed out of the shop. She'd laughed a little to herself, returning to her current project.

 

But her laugh faded.

 

…Was she on the mark?

 

She resurfaced from beneath the hood of the car she was overseeing and stared after where he had gone. She wet her lips.

 

No.

 

 _No_ , she thought more firmly, shaking her head.

 

There was no way in hell.

 

 _But it would make so much sense_ , a very bad, terrible, small voice whispered at the back of her mind. And the bitch of it was, she couldn't get it out of her mind for the rest of the day.

 

* * *

 

 

"Are you comfortable?"

 

"Yes," Rey said.

 

"You're sure you're fine without the coat?"

 

"Yes, Poe. I'm fine without the coat." Rey sent a fond smile his way. Her… non-relationship with him was still continuing, and for the first time in a long time, she was grateful for it. Because, as wrong as it was, he was going to be a total shield against Solo.

 

However, there were perks to having Dameron head over heels in love with you if you could get past the guilt. He was charming, he would bend over backwards to do whatever he could for someone he cared for, he was intelligent, cunning… and he was Solo's ultimate rival at the circuit.

 

Rey tried to remind herself that she was a terrible person.

 

It worked.

 

Mostly.

 

She figured so long as she acknowledged the problem, it wasn't as bad, the problem being leading Poe on. Even _if_ she really _wasn't_ leading Poe on, because he knew what he was getting into… but she couldn't go in that spiral again. Point was, he'd wanted to come, she'd needed a date, and here they were.

 

"I can't believe you actually agreed to go to one of these things," Poe said with a grin.

 

"It's mandatory," Rey deadpanned. _If I had a choice, I would_ not _be here._

Poe was happy, though. As he was also a part of the circuit, he went to such events, parties. He always wanted Rey to go with him, and she always declined. She didn't have the budget for such things, and she hadn't felt comfortable letting him buy her anything. She valued her independence fiercely. Which she had already stated, but it was still true.

 

Even tonight, she'd dipped into her savings for a dress that wasn't off the rack. Okay, well, it had been on clearance, and there had been coupons, but it was still high-end, and that was what mattered. She'd styled her hair herself because after that, she couldn't afford a trip to the salon. It involved a more elaborate crown braid than some of her usual, and it was pretty.

 

Or so Poe had told her once he had picked her up.

 

"You're so beautiful," he'd murmured in awe.

 

She'd blushed.

 

He said stuff like that a lot, but he always meant it when he did, and he meant it in such a way that you couldn't not possibly let it flatter you.

 

They walked up the steps to some ritzy building Rey didn't recognize. Her black shawl was around her elbows, and she held a black beaded clutch to her. Her dress was admittedly a bit clingy and went down nearly to her knees, similar to the dress she'd worn the other day. This one had a tulle fringe at the bottom, white and gray and black, black like the garment itself.

 

It was simple, it was understated, yet it was so elegant it captured many pairs of eyes once Poe had guided Rey inside. Though that might have been Dameron himself. He was very popular, being Solo's main competition and whatnot.

 

The Way You Look Tonight _is playing_ , Rey thought. She stared out at the dance floor, and for a moment, she was seven-years-old again. Her feet were on her father's, and he twirled her around the living room, the two of them laughing as he sang to her. They'd had many songs they'd done this to, but that song was her father's favorite.

 

Great. Now she not only missed England, she missed her father. But there were worse things in life, she supposed.

 

Poe was introducing her to some people. She barely registered them, smiling brightly, shaking hands. Her eyes were scanning the crowd on their own, taking in the bar set up across the room, the second floor that overlooked this one, the majestic staircase that curved up to it. And there, on that staircase…

 

Ben Solo.

 

The girl from the other day was on his arm. She exchanged a laugh with a fellow couple, and all were holding glasses of champagne. Just when Rey was about to look away, feeling strangely sick to her stomach, she caught sight of Ben's expression.

 

It was dead.

 

A smile touched his mouth occasionally—a huff of a laugh would leave him.

 

But his eyes were so empty.

 

As if sensing her stare, he looked up across the room, and they locked gazes.

 

_"See me."_

_Stop_ , she told herself.

 

Solo's eyes ran over her body like at the restaurant, except this time he did it much more slowly. His eyes lingered on her legs, and she wondered what his fascination was with them. Then he let his gaze travel back to hers, and there was something in his eyes that hadn't been there before. A spark of life.

 

 _No_ , she thought again. _No. I'm seeing what I want to see._

And why on earth did she want to see _that_?

 

She turned back to Poe. He slid his arm around her bare shoulders and held her against the curve of his body. She shook a few more hands.

 

_"See me."_

Rey squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want to think about this here. She didn't. She didn't, she didn't, she didn't. The man was an arsehole, that was all there was to it, and anything else was a fantasy she'd created out of—boredom. Yes, boredom. Who had dreams about gazebos and palace grounds she'd never seen and rain and men who said—?

 

_"See me."_

Oh, God.

 

She gasped.

 

Lips trembling slightly, she looked over Poe's arm at Solo. Solo with his tight fitting suit, black on black, which didn't surprise her. What did surprise her was the way her heart clenched in on itself like it never had before, and it was terrifying. She did not like her heart doing things like that without her express permission.  

 

He was pissed. He was making his way over to her direction.

 

They were about to have a fight, she knew it.

 

But all she could think was what he'd been telling her in the dream.

 

_"See me."_

 

"I see you," she whispered.

 

And she really wished she couldn't.


	6. Challenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick update! Was feeling the vibe, and you guys begged so nicely! 
> 
>  

 

Ben's father had told him something frequently when he'd been a child.

 

"If you ever find a woman who drives you absolutely nuts… makes you wanna pull your hair out and, I don't know, kill yourself to relieve the stress… Keep her."

 

"Keep her?" Ben had asked, skeptical even at the age of seven. "Mother and you fight constantly. Why would I want that for myself?"

 

"Listen, kid—drop the attitude." But it was said with a fond smirk and only a somewhat real huff of annoyance. "And we _don't_ fight constantly."

 

Ben made a small noise of dissent.

 

Han crouched before his son. The sunlight played over his chestnut brown hair, and his eyes were particularly blue that day. Normally they were hazel. Maybe it had something to do with how blue the sky was.

 

"That's just… our way of communicating."

 

"Well, shouldn't you find a better one, then?" Ben retorted.

 

"It's what works. I'm not saying that's what needs to work for you—arguing all the time isn't… you know, healthy…"

 

"Father, I know very well you're only still married to Mother because you are not allowed to divorce her in our country." Ben had better things he could be doing. Like climbing out his window and onto the tree that let onto the lawn, where he could escape for hours and no one would notice.

 

No one ever noticed.

 

"Ben," Han had said. He chucked his son on the chin when Ben wouldn't look up at him. "If she doesn't drive you crazy, she's not worth your time."

 

That had never made sense to Ben. To this day, it still did not. Why would you want someone at your side who constantly annoyed you, who made you bicker with them? Ben stared across the room at Rey, seeing Dameron's arm around her, and he didn't like what he felt inside.

 

 _"You need a challenge,"_ Han's voice seemed to whisper in his ears. _"You're a Solo."_

No, what he _needed_ was to tell off his employee, who had blatantly disregarded his rule.

 

Ben reached Rey's side, not allowing himself to gaze at her body again. That way lay trouble. Trouble of the sort his father was invested in, and he did his best to act exactly the opposite of his father.

 

"I thought I told you plus ones weren't allowed," he said softly. He didn't want to cause a scene. The shop was different. This was a very ritzy affair.

 

Dameron, Poe fucking Dameron, chose this moment to turn with Rey still tucked under his arm. He held out his free hand. "Hey, there, Solo. Ignoring the fact that plus ones definitely _were_ allowed, I had my own invitation." He looked down at Rey and smiled.

 

Ben wanted to punch him in the throat.

 

Or the balls.

 

Both.

 

Yes, definitely both.

 

Balls first, though.

 

However, he was a prince, and there was a certain responsibility he bore toward his family. He could not disgrace himself by making a public massacre. It would be terribly frowned upon.

 

"So you did," Ben conceded while imagining all the ways he could destroy Dameron.

 

Wait, why was he so bloodthirsty? He hated Dameron, sure. The man was his main competition. But never to this extent. No, it was the fact that he had Rey pressed against him. _Rey_.

 

This was simply not allowable.

 

"May I see you for a moment?" Ben asked Rey stiffly.

 

"I'm good, thanks," she replied, and Dameron chuckled.

 

Ben's blood pressure skyrocketed.

 

He grabbed Rey by the elbow and forcefully dragged her from Dameron, ignoring her struggles. He didn't stop until they were on the second story—the second story where only special invitees were allowed. Dameron stood below, staring up at Rey with worry, alternately glaring at Ben.

 

Rey yanked on her arm hard enough that she likely bruised herself. He hadn't been keen on letting it go.

 

"Are you _mad_?" she hissed. "You have no right to manhandle me that way!"

 

"You're making a mistake," he snarled.

 

Rey drew back. "What?"

 

"Dameron is an idiot. There's no brain in there past the charming good looks. All he knows how to do is race and rescue people."

 

"That's not—"

 

"Don't interrupt me!" Ben half-yelled.

 

"I'll interrupt you if I want to!" Rey half-yelled back.

 

He reached for her, and she stepped away. Partygoers eyed them curiously. Great. What he'd been wanting to avoid—a giant scene.

 

"You deserve better," Ben told her.

 

Rey came so close to him he thought, at first, that she was going to kiss him. She did not. She poked a finger against his chest, and it hurt, but he was a man, and he wasn't going to flinch.

 

"You treat me like a slave at work," she whispered. "You stalk me so that you can know everything about me. Or, at least, that's my guess! You tried to tell me I couldn't take a date for the evening after telling me it was _mandatory_ for me to be here!"

 

"It was mandatory," Ben said defensively. Seconds after he'd texted her that it was.

 

"Let me get this straight—you _hate_ me, and now you think you can dictate who I date?"

 

Her words were like a blow. Her mouth moved, more angry words spouting forth—he didn't hear her. He had gone inward, to the source of the pain. Why was he so winded? What was wrong with the statement she had made?

 

"And if you pull a stunt like this one more time, I'll—!"

 

"I don't hate you," Ben told her.

 

Rey faltered. "W-What…?"

 

Ben's ears turned a bright, burning red. This was why he was letting his hair grow out again. Stupid big ears. Giving him away every God damned time.

 

"Your plane seat for tomorrow has been adjusted to first class," he said shortly.

 

"What?!" Rey burst out. "I can't afford first class to France—!"

 

"The whole crew is. My treat."

 

Rey gaped at him.

 

"You shouldn't do that," he told her. "It makes you look unintelligent."

 

"I need to get back to my date," Rey said slowly, her eyes narrowed with what must have been suspicion. "If you'll excuse me." _You mad man_ going unspoken.

 

"You keep saying date," Ben pointed out.

 

Rey paused on her way to the top of the stars. "What?"

 

Ben inwardly cursed himself. He hadn't wanted to state that. He hated that he was interested in her answer. "Not your boyfriend, not even your fiancé or husband. Date."

 

She blinked at him. "So?"

 

"It makes it seem like you're not in a relationship," he said, and he could have very well offed himself then and there and been done with it.

 

Rey pursed her lips. "It's not any of your business."

 

A slow smile came to his mouth then.

 

"Goodnight, Solo," she said, and she put her hand on the banister, walking down the exquisitely polished hardwood steps and their antique rug. He had the idle thought that she was made for royalty.

 

That creamy skin… that charming smile… that delighted laugh… her expression when she grew indignant…

 

Regal.

 

He watched her rejoin Dameron on the second floor, watched the other racer check to make sure Rey was all right. She smiled and waved it off, and though concerned, Dameron led them to the bar. Ben had overheard her saying she needed a drink.

 

 _"You need a challenge,"_ Han had said, ruffling his hair. _"You're a Solo. Solos thrive on them. Or else we get bored. And nothing good happens when we're bored, huh?"_ He looked knowing and severe, eyebrows raised.

Ben had giggled. It was one of the few memories he had of his father where he had been happy.

 

Great. Now he needed scotch.

 

There was a bar on the second floor, and he got himself a glass that cost fifty dollars. It was smooth going down, and Ben used this time to figure out his next move. It couldn't be with Rey… No, he thought as he continued to observe the pair down below, no… it had to be Dameron.

 

They were all flying to France tomorrow. Cars were prepped, plane seats and a hotel were booked, and everyone's passports were in order.

 

Everyone's except, perhaps, Dameron's. Being the prince that he was, he could easily call into question some legalities or customs involving Dameron's passport. By the time it all got sorted out, there would be no point in Dameron coming at all, because he would have missed this particular circuit. No, he'd have to wait until the next one.

 

Ben grinned and took another sip of his scotch. When Rey felt his gaze and looked up at him, he tipped his glass to her. Her brows furrowed. She had no idea what he was on about.

 

He only wanted Dameron out of the race. Was it cheating? Certainly. He didn't care—and that was the only reason he was going to do it. The _only_ reason.

 

It had absolutely nothing to do with Rey.


	7. Don't You Want Me, Baby?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you guys are enjoying the roller coaster!
> 
> Also: there was some trouble with The Bond That Ties Us today because AO3 was/is having server issues. So to my readers who read both, just a heads-up. There is a new chapter.

 

Rey was running late.

 

Really late.

 

So late she hoped she made it to her gate on time.

 

"I heard Cassian Andor was at that party last night!" Finn said over the phone. She had one hand clutching her mobile to her ear, the other on the handle of her suitcase on wheels. She also had a bag strapped to her back, since purses were technically not charged as a carryon. Not that it mattered with first class.

 

She had never walked so quickly in her life, and those moving flat escalators were helping only a little. She made it to a train and hopped inside.

 

It seemed to be stalled.

 

"Rey?" Finn asked.

 

"One second," she breathed, winded.

 

A man got impatient and tried to step off. Three people grabbed him and hauled him back.

 

"Where's your gate located, man?!"

 

"It's Gate F—"

 

"What time does your flight depart?"

 

"In like twenty minutes!"

 

"That's a thirty minute walk, just wait it out!"

 

"What's going on?" Finn asked.

 

"The train is running a little behind, it seems." Rey clutched at her side, where a stitch had formed. God. She'd closed her eyes for _two minutes_ during the layover in Atlanta, and now she was paying for it. Figured that nobody had bothered to wake her. But then, everyone had gone off to look around and kill time, eat at a restaurant, get some coffee, buy some souvenirs. Maybe no one had known.

 

"You know," she gasped, "I love the feel of the airport. It's like a sense of adventure."

 

"Uh huh. So tell me more about Cassian! He's legendary!" Finn enthused.

 

The train rocked, the doors whooshing closed. They were moving.

 

"There's nothing more to say," Rey replied. She kept a firm grip on her luggage instead of grabbing onto a steel pole to keep her steady. She didn't want to get robbed, although the airport seemed safe enough. Knowing her luck, though…

 

"That's not true!" Finn whined.

 

"You don't care one whit about Andor," Rey said, making her voice as soft as possible so a: she wouldn't be overheard, and b: she didn't want to be rude. People talking obnoxiously loudly on their phones when others were nearby was one of her pet peeves.

 

"Yes, I do, I—"

 

"No, you care about his wife, Jyn."

 

Finn was tongue-tied for a moment. While he figured out how to respond, Rey stepped off the train as it rolled to a stop. So began the marathon run again, although now she was mostly sprinting. People got out of her way. Atlanta was the most massive airport in the States and was in the top ten of the world. They knew—when you had to run, you had to run.

 

"His wife is so hot, though!" Finn was jabbering at her ear. He was trying to enjoy his calls with Rey while he could before she went overseas. Pointing out that they could use Skype or something else had fallen on deaf ears.

 

"His wife is old enough to be your mother!" Rey replied.

 

Restaurant after restaurant flashed past, along with shops catering to traveling accessories, magazines, and the like. She could smell teriyaki, and it made her stomach grumble. But someone had mentioned first class had food, so—

 

There it was—her gate!

 

"Finn, I gotta go!" She signed off and approached the stewardess. There were a few stragglers left, and she was now one of them.

 

"Barely made it," the other woman said with a smile.

 

Rey gave her an exhausted smile back. Her heart was still pounding about a million miles an hour. The woman inspected her ticket and passport, passed it on to her, and Rey was boarding the flight to France.

 

She'd made it on time.

 

Thank God.

 

* * *

 

 

"You're late."

 

Rey tried to find the strength to be patient—to _not_ snap at the Crown Prince of Alderaan. She'd done her best to respect him in public. It was really only in private that she let him have a piece of her mind. Well, until the party last night. But no! No! He was constantly harassing her, she had every right to have her knickers in a twist, prince or no prince!

 

Rey looked down at her ticket to find her seat number. She was interrupted by Solo patting the spot right next to him.

 

She groaned.

 

Oh, he _had_ to be kidding.

 

"I'm not sitting with you for another ten hours," she said flatly.

 

"I don't think you have much of a choice," Solo replied smoothly.

 

Rey turned to the rest of the compartment, which was filled with the whole crew. She looked at any of them appealingly, praying they'd take her spot instead. Everyone purposefully avoided her gaze.

 

"All right, ma'am, you need to sit down now," a flight stewardess said with a slight southern drawl. "We'll be lifting off shortly."

 

Rey inhaled sharply through her nose and turned back around to Solo and the comfortable seat at his side. She wanted to smack that smug smile off his face. As if causing problems with her best friend wasn't enough, he'd made it to where Poe's passport was under examination. Poe wouldn't be able to race in time. Which was Solo's entire intention, she was sure.

 

Did she have proof Solo had done this? No. But she had a hunch, and she was never wrong on her hunches. _Never._

 

She put her luggage overhead and dropped her bag at her feet.

 

Solo curled his giant hand around her tiny wrist and yanked her into the spot beside him. The stewardess gasped, and the prince flashed her a smile so charming it made even Rey's heart melt a little. Where had the bastard pulled _that_ one from?

 

The other woman wandered off, and she was alone with Solo, or as alone as you could be on an airplane.

 

"I know what you did to Poe," she said, deciding to get straight to the source of her ire.

 

"I don't know what you're talking about." Ben was turning off the tablet on his lap. Rey was trying not to think about how extremely comfortable these seats were. "You should really shut off your devices."

 

Rey thumbed her phone off and closed her eyes, knocking her head back against her headrest.

 

Why!

 

Why, why, why!

 

Contrary to what he'd said the night before, she'd flown coach down to Atlanta. That made sense, though, she thought grudgingly. The flight was only a couple of hours. Why bother changing her ticket up again? The flight across the ocean, however…

 

"You could at least try not to look so pleased," Rey hissed. She didn't like sitting so close to him. It accentuated how tall he was. Had he been fed fertilizer as a child? She'd seen his parents. In every picture (not that there were many with Ben Solo in them), he towered over the king and queen. Something was going on there.

 

He had his mother's chin, though.

 

And his father's brow.

 

Mortified that she'd paid that much attention to his family, she reached down into her bag and pulled out her Nook. She rarely had time for reading, but there was ten hours of their flight left, and an e-reader was easier to cart around. She pulled up the Hunger Games for her fifth reread and prepared to ignore the man next to her for the rest of the flight.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign. If you haven't already done so, please stow your carry-on luggage underneath the seat in front of you or in an overhead bin. Please take your seat and fasten your seat belt. Make sure your seat back and folding trays are in their full, upright position.

 

"If you are seated next to an emergency exit, please read carefully the special instructions card located by your seat. We remind you that this is a non-smoking flight. Smoking is prohibited on the entire aircraft, including the…"

 

Blah, blah, blah.

 

The stewardess from before came out and started demonstrating the safety measures, a video on behind her. Rey watched out of habit. Who knew when disaster could strike?

 

Solo leaned in close to her ear. "You know liquor is free in first class."

 

Rey looked at him. She tried not to notice that their faces were only a few inches apart. "Why do you want me to get tossed?"

 

He shrugged, then smirked and leaned back in his seat. The plane was taking off, and Rey gripped onto her armrests. She had to admit that flying in first class was nice. Across the aisle, one of the crew members was clutching his seat for dear life, praying under his breath, his eyes squeezed shut.

 

"Maybe _he's_ the one who needs the free alcohol," Rey whispered.

 

She was surprised to hear a snort of delight from Solo.

 

"Something tells me you're not afraid of anything," he said.

 

"Spiders," she mused. "Bridges."

 

"Bridges?" he asked with more than a little skepticism.

 

"What if the car goes over the bridge and I plummet into an icy river and die because—" She stopped because he was muffling his laughter. Arsehole. "Forget it." She lifted her Nook. For a second, a fleeting second, she'd thought she'd be able to have a normal conversation with him.

 

"Why aren't you angrier that Dameron won't make it?" he asked. The plane shook as it pulled into the air. The man across from her squealed.

 

Solo and Rey both dissolved into laughter, leaning against each other in an attempt to smother it. It was Robert, a huge, burly man. Seeing him almost pissing his pants because he was terrified of traveling by plane was—well, it was mean. But it was also kind of a riot.

 

The plane leveled out, and they were in the clouds. Robert stopped having heart palpitations, relaxing with a relieved groan.

 

"You didn't answer me," Solo murmured. "Why aren't you angrier that—?"

 

"I heard you the first time," she grumbled. "And again: it's none of your business." She frowned. "Stop smirking."

 

"I'm not smirking," he said as his smirk spread.

 

"You know, why do you _care_?" Rey snapped. "I get that he's your competition, fine. But why do you care how I feel about if he's coming or not? What is the real reason? It has nothing to do with work. So tell me, Ben Solo. Why would you possibly—?"

 

"Shut up, I have work to read." He lifted his tablet and rested it on his crossed knee.

 

Rolling her eyes, Rey returned to Katniss and Peeta's blossoming sort-of relationship.

 

For once, they didn't argue. In fact, two hours passed in complete silence, aside from getting a drink and a snack. Then another two, where at one point Ben was listening to the movie being shown, headphones on his ears.

 

Her eyes were so heavy. The words on her e-reader were blurring together. She found herself rereading lines two to three times.

 

She nodded off against Ben, her head resting lightly on his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben froze.

 

What was she—?

 

 _Asleep_. She'd fallen asleep. And on _him_.

 

Why?

 

He should wake her up, jostle his shoulder. They could pretend it hadn't happened.

 

Ben wet his lips and stared at the passing clouds.

 

It wasn't _so_ bad… having her dozing on him…

 

Something in his heart, something intensely unfamiliar, unfurled like flower petals opening to the sun.

 

 _Uh-oh_ , he thought.


	8. Waking Up Slow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  Over a double longer than the last chapters, yay!

 

Ben tried to focus on his tablet, and God damn if it wasn't the most impossible task. He'd been running over the numbers and turns—the track rations and the known danger spots. Old crashes. It helped him tune out the sound of the plane engines and the nagging sensation that the pilot didn't know what the hell he was doing. Just because _he_ could do it better didn't mean that this pilot was incompetent.

 

After a couple of hours, he was running out of distraction tactics. Mostly because she'd… moved. It was different before. She kept her temple on his shoulder, and she didn't budge, and it was easier to bear. And now? _Now_ she was being… cute.

 

All right, more than cute.

 

It was fucking adorable.

 

God.

 

He hated her.

 

No, he hated himself.

 

 _No,_ he hated how some of his employees couldn't keep from smirking in their direction.

 

 _I hate everything and everyone_.

 

She gave another one of her little sighs and curled a hand around his arm, near his elbow. From what he could tell, she slept deeply. He imagined it was from the rigorous work he'd been putting her through. Now that he was really paying attention, he could see the shadows under her eyes… beneath… the freckles…

 

God, she had freckles.

 

He could count them, if he wanted.

 

He swallowed hard.

 

_One, two, three, four…_

 

Fuck.

 

Ben yanked his eyes back to his tablet. He couldn't take it anymore.

 

He shrugged his right shoulder, gently nudging Rey's head.

 

* * *

 

Rey cleared her throat as her eyes slipped open. She was groggy as balls. There were the typical sounds of an airplane—the noise of the plane going through the air, murmurs of spattered conversation, someone walking quickly down the aisle, probably a stewardess. And then there was that mostly comfortable armrest her elbow had sunken into.  

 

Right.

 

Flight to France.

 

She sniffled and lifted her head.

 

Wait.

 

Lifted?

 

The corner of her mouth was wet…

 

She placed her wrist to it and looked in the direction her head had been leaning in. She found Solo. Solo and his… shoulder… where it had a little bit of drool on it.

 

…

 

…

 

…

 

She tore out of her seat and went for the lavatory.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Rey Kenobi did _not_ drool and had _never_ drooled. She strongly suspected she hadn't even drooled much as a baby, but there were no parents around to question. Never mind that this wasn't true—all babies drooled—she had done it in front of _Ben I-Think-I-Have-Unicorns-Shooting-Out-of-My-Arse Solo_. Not even in front of— _on_!

 

This was so _embarrassing_!

 

She buried her face in her hands. _God_. It wasn't as though she could run away. They were on a plane—for however many more bloody hours. She was seated next to him, and no one else would take her place.

 

Unless…

 

She wondered if she could get somebody from coach to switch with her. Surely, they would? It was _first class_ , and for free.

 

What the hell was she _contemplating_? If she did that, Ben Solo would win the match. They'd had so many, both of them evenly winners, a few touchés. He'd won this last one when he'd gotten her to sit beside him on a ten hour flight after having royally fucked Poe's chances of making it to the circuit on time. She could not afford to lose another move. She had to take his king.

 

She gripped the edges of the sink and stared herself down in the mirror. Ben was dressed for first class, but she was wearing active clothes. Stylish active clothes, but active clothes nonetheless. She had on no make-up because they had woken up at the crack of dawn, and she'd slept in until the last possible minute. She was far too exhausted.

 

It didn't bother her. Thirteen hour flight to France, with no boyfriend or anything in sight? She had no one to impress. And she still didn't—but she _did_ have an opportunity to cage in Ben's king, to take it.

 

She studied her hair where it was pulled into a loose bun at the back of her neck. She tugged the tie out of her hair and held it between her teeth as she finger-combed her hair. It was naturally curly, so between some tugging and fluffing, she had it beautiful in no time. Her hair was one of the only parts of her body that she knew without a doubt was sexy.

 

The other was the exposed curve of her shoulder.

 

If the combination drove Poe crazy, she'd have to see how Solo handled it. Maybe it could be enough to distract him from the fact that she'd drooled on his shoulder. He could drool over her, figuratively, and then they'd be even. Okay, so maybe it wasn't winning, but it most certainly was not losing.

 

She gave herself one last primp and left the lavatory.

 

* * *

 

 

Solo was also returning to his seat. He must have gone to the other lavatory. They settled into place, neither exchanging a word or a glance. Ben took up his tablet, Rey crossed her knees and balanced her nook on them. Whilst she did so, she cocked her head just enough to the right to let her hair fall back from her neck and shoulder.

 

"So, um… how much longer until we land, do you think? How long was I out, exactly?" She kept her gaze locked firmly on the bright screen of her e-reader. She could honestly say she wasn't reading a single word. For some stupid reason, her heart was pounding.

 

She heard Solo's breath catch—and she realized in that moment that she didn't want to call him Solo anymore. She wanted to call him Ben, like he'd told her to. Good God, what sort of fire was she playing with? …And why did she like it so much?

 

"Three hours," Ben murmured. "I—… Left, I mean."

 

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was fixated by the waterfall of curls that made up her hair. She had to bite back a smile. It wouldn't do if he knew she could see him.

 

"We'll arrive past midnight." He ducked his head and flicked his tablet back on. But just as Rey had been staring sightlessly at her own tablet a moment ago, so Ben was now. She was glad to see that he was as nervous as she was. Whatever that meant, as she had no need to be nervous about anything.

 

"No early morning for any of us," he continued. When he wasn't yelling at her or snarling, his voice was soft and deep. "We're beating the cars there by a day. You'll have time to gift shop."

 

The way he said it made Rey's hackles rise a little. It turned out soft and deep was deceptive, as it gave a knowing drawl when it suited.

 

"I _adore_ how you assume I haven't been to France before," she said, putting a sweet smile on her mouth that was extra sugary. She placed a hand on her chest. "The better question is, where haven't I been, Ben?"

 

Been Ben.

 

Ha.

 

Conversely, he took notice of her use of his first name. The way his eyes jerked to hers made her heart do a double backflip. There were a couple of complicated gymnastics moves that followed, and Rey wished she had decided to keep calling him Solo. With him looking at her like that, she had to be _nice_. And he didn't deserve it.

 

She reached over and took his tablet from his lap. "This is a terrible tablet." She held it closer so she could get a better look at it. She popped off the protective cover and snorted. "No wonder. You banged the hell out of it. Do you take care of anything, or do you crush all of the flower petals?" There. Some disdain. Perfect.

 

Ben sniffed. "I assume you have people to buy gifts for, Kenobi." He snatched his device back. "And machines are made to do a job. I use them. That's all. Cars, computers, tools…"

 

"Uh huh," Rey muttered. She couldn't help but see this as an opportunity to really make him squirm. Messing with his mind would be easy, she suspected. But how to begin?

 

She leaned over, well into his personal space, and grinned. She wondered what he'd do. Talk nervously? Awkwardly avoid her gaze? Come up with something snarky because he didn't know any other language? The possibilities were endless.

 

The prince gave her a quick lookover before huffing and turning away. Apparently, it was easier to glare at the clouds. "You don't believe me? I've seen your workplace. Your toolkit is a disaster, your coveralls would be if you didn't get new ones regularly, and I saw you use a zip tie to correct a broken transmission cable shift."

 

Rey had to admit she was impressed with the depth of his stalking.

 

"That's no different," he persisted. "They're tools. All of them."

 

"Say what you want. My methods work, as you've seen for yourself." Rey returned to her e-reader. She flicked out to her library and perused her options. She wasn't feeling dystopian anymore. Maybe something sci-fi.

 

She couldn't help adding one last jab, "And your tablet is a little more delicate than everything else you listed. It may be a tool, but if you want it to be most effective, you have to take care of it. Your cars are the same way, you know." There! She had him where he couldn't escape while she ranted to him about his inability to make the shop's life easier. "You pay people to correct the problems, when if you took a little more care, you wouldn't have so many problems in the first place."

 

She gave him a two-fingered salute she'd seen on some movie somewhere. "But then again, if you start driving better, I'm probably out of a job."

 

There. She'd thrown enough at him for his temper to return to its usual color: black.

 

"The tablet I can replace," he said. "And do. The cars are… different." His gaze went inward abruptly as he set his jaw. "You could call them a family tradition."

 

The red button was there, and it was so shiny, and she wanted to push the red, shiny button, because he was always pushing hers.

 

"I'm a little jealous," she admitted. Shite. Why had she said that? She was feeding him ammunition to torture her. To cover her surprise, she played with an Irish pennant on the knee of her active pants.

 

"Why?" he retorted. "You have a father."

 

"An adoptive father," she reminded him. "But I have no idea who my real parents are. When I was a toddler, they abandoned me. I still don't know why, and I can't ask them. I'm happy to have my adopted father, but I'll always have questions."

 

"Family is overrated," Ben said. "They're often not worth the effort."

 

Rey didn't reply. They'd gone hours without arguing, and she didn't want to spoil it now. She could mind her thoughts and read a captivating novel for a movie she'd seen first. That was usually the way of it. See the movie, grow intrigued. If there's time to read, read it.

 

"…You're not happy with your father?" Ben ventured.

 

"I just said I was," Rey pointed out somewhat irately. Then she sighed. "I miss him terribly, actually…" She hesitated, mouth opening. She considered not continuing on, but Ben raised an eyebrow. "I was thinking of him at the party."

 

"Why?" Ben asked curiously.

 

" _The Way You Look Tonight_." She smiled to herself again in memory.

 

"The song? What about it?"

 

She couldn't have expected him to remember it playing at the party. She wouldn't expect anyone to remember that. "It was one of the songs my father would often play when I was a child. He would put my feet on top of his, and we would dance around the room." She chuckled. "He used to pretend that I weighed, like, twenty stone." He'd grimace around a smile every time.

 

 _"You're so heavy,"_ he'd protest. _"What have you been eating? You're skin and bones! What sorcery is this?"_

And she'd giggle endlessly.

 

Ben didn't reply.

 

She looked up to see him gripping the edge of his tablet hard enough that his fingers were white.

 

Ben Solo's life wasn't a mystery on paper. He'd attended many different boarding schools, was rarely home, and therefore rarely saw his parents. Officially, he hadn't returned to his home country in nearly three years and had never been in a relationship long enough to warrant keeping the media's attention.  

 

Why hadn't he gone home in so long? _Clearly_ something was there. But his family had some good people keeping their shit locked down, because no one knew anything past what history could tell them. Compared to the rest of the world, it wasn't an interesting history, either. Standard fare for a small country not many people had heard of.

 

But there was pain—there was pain in the way he gripped his tablet, there was pain in the set of his shoulders.

 

Rey had grown up abandoned by her real parents. But it seemed—well… it _seemed_ like maybe Ben felt that way. So many boarding schools… He must have been so lonely. He didn't seem like the type to make friends easily. A lot of that could be from his personality, however. It was rather dour. Had it always been?

 

"I did some history on you, you know." Rey folded her hands over her stomach, her elbows on the cushy armrests. "After all of your stalking, I had to return the favor. It didn't seem fair. Explains the chip on your shoulder, though."

 

She was trying to get him to talk. He didn't take the bait.

 

"Tell me, do you enjoy shutting everyone out because you genuinely don't like people, or because you're afraid to be disappointed?"

 

He clenched his jaw.

 

"Something tells me it's a mixture of both," she said, tilting her head. "I could have a chip on my shoulder, too. I find the world much easier to bear when you don't hate it quite so constantly."

 

Ben scoffed. "And what has it given me not to hate?" he challenged. It made the corner of his mouth quirk. "Maybe I've decided that it's the world's job to bear me, rather than vice versa."

 

"Uh huh."

 

He rolled his eyes with a pointed sigh. "Are you going to continue psychoanalyzing me? It can go both ways, you know."

 

 _Bring it on,_ she thought. She'd freely chosen to talk about her adoptive father. She had absolutely no problem with—

 

"Maybe we can chat about how Dameron is clearly enamored of you, and you are clearly commitment shy?"

 

Rey's cheeks burned, her entire body tensing with discomfort. "That's not—" Damn. Words. Words! They were hard. But use them, she must. Somehow. "That's—"

 

Ben began to laugh.

 

Rey smacked his bicep, earning an, "OW!"

 

"I'm not _commitment shy_ ," she said

 

"Uh huh," he said, using her own tactic against her.

 

"Poe is—he's a very great man," she said over his skepticism.

 

"Right," Ben said with a puff of amusement.

 

"He _is_ ," Rey insisted. She bit her lip. "Just…maybe… not for _me_." She muttered the last part, lowering her eyes.

 

His eyebrows rose. "Oh, yes. I see it now, so clearly. Tall, dark, handsome, semi-famous, kind to small animals and clearly, hopelessly in love with you. Who could _ever_?"

 

"First of all," Rey began hotly, "I'm amazed you were able to list that many nice things about him, considering how much you abhor him. And secondly—" Her shoulders drew straight. "I don't need a Prince Charming."

 

"Every girl wants a Prince Charming," Ben muttered. "Believe me."

 

"Well, not me. And Poe… He doesn't look at things that way. He wants to take care of me constantly. A little is okay, but—I can do things on my _own_. I've been on my own ever since I was a small child." She drew her fingers through her hair and idly pulled it back into a bun. "He has a hero complex."

 

"Isn't that also what most girls need in a man?" Ben sneered.

 

"I'm my own hero," she said, smacking his arm again. He glared. "I don't need one. Besides… if someone being in love with you was the only requirement to being happy, there would be plenty of happier people in the world."

 

"I couldn't say."

 

It was said so… tortured, but Rey thought she must have imagined it, because he shifted in his chair to get more comfortable. A flash already gone.

 

"He's a fool if he expects you to be taken care of, though." Ben pinched the cloth over his knees to pull his trousers to accommodate his movement. "You're capable."

 

"He's not a _fool_ ," Rey said. "He's just—… remarkably stubborn. A trait I, obviously, also carry." Better to point it out before he could. Then she shrugged. "So how about you? You were with that pretty woman at the party." She tilted a playful grin in his direction. "I must admit, it's a little surprising that you have a girlfriend. Is it because of your fame? Or do you just treat her better than you do me?"

 

He blinked slowly.

 

Was he…? Did he seriously not remember?

 

"The pretty woman…? Tisha?" His expression went inward again. He shook it off a moment later. "I'm not dating her. Or anyone."

 

All of the air left Rey's lungs.

 

"O-Oh."

 

She could kick herself. What kind of response was _that_? 'O-Oh.' Like she didn't have a smart bone in her body.

 

"My mistake," she said. The words were considerably strangled.

 

There was more mental kicking.

 

Damn it, _no_. This was _not_ okay. She was not going to—to _swoon_ at the idea of Ben being single.

 

"You sound upset," he observed. "Disappointed I'm not as off the market as you thought?" He stretched his long legs out in front of him. A fresh smirk was dancing over his lips. "Do you have something to share… Rey?"

 

She could do this. She could be cool. "Oh, I just thought that maybe with someone to keep you in check, you'd stop breathing down my neck so much. But now it's become so much clearer. You have no distractions, so all you can do is focus on me." She fluttered her lashes at him. "I'm flattered. _Really_ , I am. To have caught your attention like that when there's plenty of other beautiful women vying for it."

 

"Yes, they rather do," he said thoughtfully. "Does that work for Dameron, then? So many lovely ladies would gladly hang on his arm, and yet he seems to have settled on you." He studied his nails. "Perhaps there's a common variable."

 

Rey remained quiet, unsure if she wanted to connect the dots on that one—unsure if she dared.

 

A smile spread slowly over her mouth as she recalled something else from the party. "You said you didn't hate."

 

"I did," he conceded cautiously.  

 

"Why do you torture me so much, then? If you don't hate me, I mean."

 

Ben then did something that put the rest of the discussion firmly in his court. He searched in his satchel, withdrew a lens case, and put on a pair of glasses.

 

Holy.

 

Fucking.

 

Mother of—

 

"You annoy me," he said, oblivious to the heat that had lit her up inside for no real good reason. The man looked good in glasses. So what?

 

The man looked _amazing_ in glasses…

 

"You think you know best, you talk back, you take charge whenever there's a chance you might not get your way…" He leveled another glare on her. "I would hardly say I have been torturing you, however. I've expected you to do your job and do it well."

 

"And the stalking and the sexual harassment?" she asked wryly. It was taking all of her willpower not to stammer. This was ridiculous. Glasses on that man's face should not hold so much power. It was almost godly. It wasn't right.

 

"I never sexually harassed you," Ben snapped.

 

"Well, these are my qualities. They will never change. You should fire me now if you can't handle it," Rey said stubbornly. The cornering him and getting answers angle was quickly going south. She'd forgotten in that equation that she, too, was trapped on the plane with him.

 

"You're a good mechanic." His mouth twisted unhappily. "As much trouble as you are, you get the job done right and thoroughly."

 

Rey looked up at the compliment. "…Thank you," she murmured.

 

"Mhm," he said.

 

As one, they returned to their tablets.

 

Rey tried not to think about those glasses, the shape of his mouth, the pout it often formed, the way it was so entirely…

 

Kissable.

 

 _Uh-oh_ , she thought.


	9. A Love Like Yours Will Surely Come My Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wheeee!

 

"Oh, please, Han! If I have to hear about this one more time—"

 

"We were not _prepared_ for this!"

 

"No, _you_ weren't prepared for this!"

 

"Fine! I wasn't! But this wasn't the life I wanted thrust upon me!"

 

"That's what this marriage is to you? A burden?"

 

"That's not what I said!"

 

"Well, it very well sounded like it!"

 

"Leia, I just—I wasn't ready! I'm still not ready! This lifestyle, the way we live…"

 

"You're a _king_ , Han. You've been one for ten years now!"

 

"And it wasn't the life I would have chosen!"

 

"So the only reason you're here is because of Ben?! Would you have married me if I hadn't gotten pregnant? Or would you have gone back to smuggling, to the Kira girl you still weren't over!"

 

"Christ, Leia, something's got to give. I—I don't know if I can do this anymore. It's a sham, and everyone knows it's a sham! You think I don't pay attention to the damned tabloids anymore?! It's everywhere, they're everywhere!"

 

"Unfortunately, Han, divorce is not an option. It's not recognized by—"

 

"There. There it is!"

 

"There is _what_?"

 

"That look on your face—the manufactured one, the one you give to the world! Like nothing moves you, nothing matters!"

 

"Of course, it matters to me! Why would I be fighting with you about it if it didn't?! But where can you possibly _go_ , Han?"

 

"Nowhere! And that's the entire fucking point!"

 

"Don't use that language at me!"

 

Han curled his hand into a fist and lifted it slightly, growling as he did so, murder in his eyes. He left one of the room's three exits. Ben stood in the dark, watching through the crack of another door. His mother and father had been fighting again.

 

Leia sat on an antique sofa and buried her face in her hands. She looked like she was crying.

 

Ben wanted to feel sorry for her—he did. He loved his mother more than anything in the entire world. But there was something burning in his chest, something agonizing, and it captured all of his attention. It made his eyes fill with tears. It made him grit his teeth, clench a fist and raise it a little.

 

That's what he was to his parents? A mistake?

 

He was old enough to know what that meant.

 

Ben was shackling his father to this life… a life he didn't want… Was this why he was at boarding schools all year? His mother said it was an expected education, but now he wondered.

 

He used his fist to scrub his tears away. If his father didn't want him to be there, then he wouldn't be there. It was as simple as that.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey nudged Ben. They were landing, and he was deep in slumber, pressed against the window. What concerned her was the expression he carried—deeply furrowed brows, a pull of his lips in a frown. Nothing too different from his usual expression, yet…

 

He didn't stir.

 

She nudged him again, and he inhaled, lifting his head suddenly and blearily. He took in Rey's face, the cabin, swallowed, and leaned back in his seat. He placed a hand to his forehead, then ran shaking fingers through his hair.

 

Rey coughed, and he looked at her, still out of it. She reached over and righted his glasses. He'd kind of been sleeping with his face plastered to the window, and his glasses had been knocked upward in the process.

 

Ben caught her wrist.

 

They both looked down at where he was gripping her.

 

Ben released her like an electric shock had gone through him. She knew because she'd felt it, too. And it was terrifying. They busied themselves with getting their things in order for the landing.

 

* * *

 

 

They got their luggage relatively quickly. Someone arrived to grab all of Ben's, which consisted of a stack of Louis Vuitton bags and suitcases. They startled Rey—she'd managed to forget for one precious moment that he wasn't a prince.

 

"Must be nice," she remarked.

 

"What?" His head lifted.  

 

She jerked her head in the direction of the hired help. "You can carry your entire wardrobe across the ocean _and_ have someone here to pick it up when you arrive. Why didn't you just fly in a jet?"

 

Ben set his jaw. "I thought we'd moved past enemies and into the realm of friendship. That involves _not_ being rude to me."

 

She laughed at this, grabbing her luggage as it came off the conveyer. "It's going to take a lot more than a plane ride together to make me your friend."

 

He colored. "That's—you should want to be _my_ friend!"

 

Pulling her luggage with her, she followed the signs to exit the airport. She was still laughing. He thought they were friends. That was adorable. What was more, she could tell he was sincere about it. Didn't he understand what a friendship was like?

 

Ben appeared at her side, slightly out of breath. "Fine, if you _must_ know—"

 

"I don't."

 

"—I don't have a jet. My family does. But I'm not on speaking terms with them."

 

"My, this is a lot of information to be sharing with your nemesis." Rey chuckled. It was easy to irritate him, so easy, so little effort. His control board of buttons to push were transparent. Ben didn't say anything, again not taking the bait. "You're not on speaking terms with them?" Rey prompted.

 

"I am when it requires it, unless it's at home. I haven't been to the castle in three years. No one questions my absence anymore."

 

"Oooh, a castle?" Rey said.

 

"That was your takeaway?" Ben drawled.

 

"Well, it's interesting! I thought it would be a manor or something, some grand estate."

 

"I thought you said you did your research on me," he said.

 

"I… may… have half-arsed it," Rey admitted. "But, in my defense, it was difficult to get any information on your family! They have that on total lockdown!"

 

"Not the fact that we own a castle, though," Ben pointed out. "That would be a little hard to miss."

 

She scowled. "I thought you wanted to be friends."

 

"No, _you_ want to be friends," Ben growled.

 

They exited the airport through its glass doors and stepped into a slightly chilly midnight air. Cars were lined up, and after a moment, Rey realized they were for them—Ben, the pit crew. She smiled with delight as she was escorted to a shiny car and asked to step inside. Robert and Sydney were her companions.

 

Once everyone was in a vehicle and all the luggage was packed away in the trunks of the cars, they departed from Paris-Charles De Gaulle International Airport and headed for their hotel.

 

* * *

 

 

Since Rey was the only female, that meant she got an entire room to herself. Some of the guys were pissed, but they could suck it. She was going to enjoy it too much to let any of them make her feel guilty. It was one of those times she benefited from having a vagina.

 

Prince Solo had taken the penthouse, no surprise there. The hotel was booked solid, holding plenty of people there for the circuit. Rey had to push around them, forgoing an elevator because it was so congested. She took the stairs, relieved to find no one else had had the same idea.

 

She was in shape enough that by the time she reached her floor, eleven flights of steps up, she wasn't even tired. Well, slightly winded, but that was the extent of it.

 

Her room had a nice view of Paris. She'd seen it before, but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate its beauty again. After she'd stared at the city lights for a while, she'd gotten unpacked and toured her room. It was pretty standard fare, albeit classy.

 

She showered the airport smell off her. The hotel offered complimentary, expensive products, but she used her own. She was going to be traveling a lot. This was the only way she could think of to bring at least the scent of home with her.

 

It was close to two a.m. when she picked up her phone to check her messages. She had a pile from Poe.

 

_Poe: Let me know when you get there._

_Poe: I hope you fly safe._

_Poe: Did your flight arrive all right?_

_Poe: Message me in the morning._

Using her other hand to brush her teeth, she sighed and went to the next one.

 

_Dad: This message will reach you late, but I love you, dear. Please call me in the morning._

_Sitrine: Fuck the prince, fuck the prince, fuck the prince! I mean, can you imagine? If nothing else, do it for England!_

 

Rey laughed.

 

_Sitrine: At the risk of sounding very cheesy and corny, please tell me you arrived, even if it's midnight. Love you!_

She shook her head and spat out her toothpaste and rinsed. Then she went back to her phone.

 

_Me: I'm here._

_Sitrine: Where? I don't see you._

_Me: I'm going to bed._

_Sitrine: Nooo! Tell me about the flight! : ( : ( : ( : (_

_Me: In the morning! I'm exhausted. Jet lag will be making it worse._

_Sitrine: : ( : ( : ( : ( : (_

_Me: Goodnight, Sitrine._

_Sitrine: : (_

_Sitrine: : (_

_Sitrine: : (_

_Sitrine: : (_

_Sitrine: : (_

_Sitrine: : (_

_Solo: Are you awake?_

_Sitrine: : (_

_Sitrine: : (_

Rey froze, clutching her phone. What could Ben possibly want? He'd said it himself, there was nothing to work on in the morning, the cars hadn't arrived yet. It couldn't possibly be anything of a work nature.

 

She flashed back to the airport, their quips about being not-friends.

 

_Me: If you have demands, you can wait until the morning._

_Solo: I had a question._

Rey furrowed her brows and swished her lips to one side. A question. A question about what?

 

_Me: ?_

_Solo: You said you had questions about why your parents abandoned you._

Rey's fingers hovered over the keypad, her throat suddenly tight. Who didn't have questions about why their parents abandoned them? Especially if they couldn't even be found. Her father had done his best, but whoever they were, they were either dead or just didn't want to be found.

 

_Solo: Would you rather have parents who have abandoned you, or parents who don't want you, but still keep you?_

Why would he ask that?

 

She started to get angry. Of course, she'd rather have parents who kept her, even if they didn't want her! She'd at least have _family_ , her own blood. But then she realized this was coming from somewhere else, some layer of pain in him.

 

_Me: Neither._

 


	10. The Second Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo, France!

 

"There may have been… _something_ ," Rey conceded reluctantly. She sat in front of her laptop, one leg tucked up with her on the bed. Her left hand held her mobile, and her right was catching up on the news. "But… it would have been—it was… tiny. Microscopic."

 

"Nothing is that tiny," Sitrine said. "Not with you two."

 

"You act as if you've seen us interact," Rey pointed out. "You haven't. All you have to go on is what I've told you."

 

"And?"

 

"And so you don't know!"

 

"What was it, at any rate?" Sitrine questioned.

 

Rey rested her chin on her knee and sighed audibly.

 

"See? Not that tiny," her friend murmured.

 

"It's not that. It's that I can't—place it… exactly. But something's changed since then."

 

"Since _when_?" Sitrine begged. "Throw me something! Anything! A sultry glance—a brush of hands!"

 

"Are you reading those Victorian romance novels again?" Rey lifted her head, eyebrows raised.

 

" _No_!" he said. "I mean— _no_ , Rey, of course not. That is entirely feminine, and I am the picture of masculinity."

 

"So what was the plot?" Rey asked with the air of someone settling in for a long story.

 

"There was this duke!" he said fervently. "And this handmaiden, which was surprising, considering most of these stories focus on the nobles."

 

"Sitrine, focus."

 

"Right! And so…"

 

* * *

 

 

Rey was drained. Everything had to be _perfect_ , and the practice runs were wearing on Ben's mind. He was too competitive—he was hard on himself, wanting to break some sort of personal record. He disappeared into the penthouse after the Friday practice rounds. Everyone thought that was for the best. Ben was even more foul when he was in a snit.

 

She managed to avoid him all day by staying off the track. If he came her way in the shop, snarling at the crew, she'd find someplace else to hide. The moment his tornado path was over, she was back at the task at hand. A few of the crew eyed her curiously and then knowingly, but she pretended she didn't notice. In all likelihood, they probably thought the two of them were fighting. It wasn't as though their heated disputes weren't legendary by now.

 

When she got back to her room that night, she had just enough time to shower and talk to Sitrine before she passed out. That conversation was fortunately short. Rey didn't have much to update him on, aside from Ben was doing well in the practice rounds.

 

Saturday was more practice rounds and the qualifiers. Rey was on the track, because she needed her own practice. Ben not only qualified, but he gained himself the closest starting position. Rey couldn't help but wonder what it might have been like if Poe had been there. Would the result have been the same? They were neck and neck so often…

 

There was a party planned for Saturday night, as the race began Sunday. Rey was half-considering staying put, catching up on much needed sleep. Then she thought of the dress she'd brought, the one she'd worn at the last party. She thought about how the rest of the crew was going. It was supposed to be an exciting night. Things were heating up, it was a busy day tomorrow.

 

Rey supposed she could show up, avoid Ben because he was likely to point out her use of the same wardrobe, and seek out her co-workers. They usually lingered by the bars at these functions, they'd told her gleefully hours earlier. Get together in their small poor corner and mock the wealthy—and, of course, pray for victory.

 

There had been plenty of murmurs the last few days of who Ben's major opponent would be, now that Dameron couldn't make the circuit in time. Many anticipated that Ben would take the cup and cash prize. If he didn't have to go neck and neck with Poe, who was there, really, to stop him?

 

Ben, for his part, seemed determined to ignore the rumors. Rey thought it was because he didn't want to get a big head—or "bigger head", in her opinion. He didn't text her again, either. Rey wasn't too sure what to make of that, except he likely didn't have the time. That was the idea that she was choosing to stick with, anyway. The other one was surprisingly too painful to contemplate.

 

Finished showering and blow-drying her hair, Rey grabbed the rest of her product.

 

A ding sounded from the bedroom.

 

Rey glanced that way, then down at the product in her hands. She finished with what she was doing enough to check her phone. It seemed she had given up on Ben too soon.

 

_Solo: Are you going to the party tonight?_

_Me: Why?_

It wasn't in her nature to give him an easy time, and she was suspicious.

 

There were several more dings, signifying Ben was texting her, but Rey ignored them to recommence getting ready. Since she'd done a crown braid last time, she opted for a different hairstyle tonight. It was an elegant bun piled atop her head, each strand of hair pulled straight into place. A lot of bobby pins and hairspray.

 

Rey ran concealer under her eyes to hide the bags.

 

_Ding-ding._

Foundation: check. Eyeshadow: check. Eyeliner: check. Blush: check. Lipstick—

 

_Ding-ding._

Rey knew all of those texts couldn't possibly be from Ben. It was either Sitrine or Poe, hopefully the former, and the thought left Rey feeling instant guilt. She really needed to cut him loose, but she would never be ready for it. Hurting Poe was so far from what she wanted.

 

Makeup complete, she grabbed her clutch and phone.

 

_Solo: Why do you always question me?_

_Solo: Kenobi. This is important._

_Solo: Hello._

_Solo: Are you going to the party or not?_

_Solo: Rey._

_Solo: REY._

Wow. She owed both Sitrine and Poe an apology.

 

_Me: I was in the shower._

_Solo: Was that what I think it was?_

_Me: It was in no way a come on._

_Solo: Like that would be the most terrible thing ever._

Rey stopped to stare at her phone, and she had a very intense feeling that so had Ben.

 

_Solo: Whatever, are you coming?_

_Me: Yes, I'll be there._

_Solo: Find me when you get here._

 

Rey huffed.

_Me: No._

_Solo: As your_ friend _, will you find me when you get here?_

_Me: Sure._

Rey tossed her phone into her clutch, settling her shawl around her elbows. It was made out of a thin gauze, which was fortunate, considering it was June, primetime summer. She'd added black tights and a different pair of heels, ones with four inches on them. She was asking for pain, she knew it, but Ben was so much taller than her, and maybe this would make him less intimidating.

 

She met Wayde and Dylan in the lobby. They whistled appreciatively. She blushed and waved them off. Together, they got into a cab and headed for the shindig.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey had forgotten an important factor: this was _France_. It was the height of fashion, and she looked like she'd gotten her gown from Wal-Mart in comparison. It took away the confidence she'd built for this party.

 

While she stood gaping, Wayde and Dylan met up with the others. They all headed toward the bar. A few looked expectantly at Rey for her to follow. She started to, stopped. She'd told Ben she would find him here. Damn. Suddenly, it was the last thing she wanted. He would look so glamorous, surrounded by equally glamorous women, and here she was wearing a gown to an event twice in a row. A gown of shame.

 

Damn it. She hadn't ever cared about these things before. What did it matter how she looked? She was here for herself. She had nothing to prove to anybody, not even Ben or his companions.

 

"Ugh, of course they let the help in," a stranger said snidely, walking up to her. He was American, for which Rey was grateful. Her French was broken.

 

Rey frowned at him. "Excuse me?"

 

"I said they let the help in, and it's pathetic." The man was balding, and the buttons on his suit were straining, doing their best not to burst. Was he a sponsor? She didn't recognize him as one of the drivers.

 

"It's really rude to assume I'm the help," Rey said. "You have no idea who I am. Who are you to pass judgment on me?"

 

Bald-y tsked and nodded to her nails, where grease was worn under the grooves.

 

 _The Way You Look Tonight_ started to play, catching Rey's attention, pulling it toward the dance floor. How interesting. Perhaps it was one of those situations where once you noticed something, it cropped up everywhere.

 

Ben crossed her line of vision. He was glowering. Why? Because she hadn't found him yet? Impatient arsehole.

 

Rey scowled at him and then at Bald-y. "Sir, I'll have you know—"

 

"Rey!" Ben inserted himself neatly between Bald-y and herself. He gripped her hand and bowed over it to kiss it. "How is my best mechanic?"

 

Rey couldn't breathe.

 

Had that just happened?

 

Had he just used a princely move on her?

 

"She's a genius with the cars," Ben was saying, "but I'm afraid I have to steal her before she gives away all of her secrets." He tucked Rey under his arm, looking down at her. "And you promised me a dance, remember?"

 

He herded her to the dancefloor, leaving a gaping arsehole behind. Ben's jaw was so tight, she thought he might have pulled a muscle. He kept glaring in the direction of Bald-y. Rey stood there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do. If he really wanted to dance… She wasn't sure she was up to snuff. Her ballroom dancing skills were rusty and had happened when she was a kid.

 

"I didn't need you to rescue me," Rey said, drawing his attention to her. "But… I suppose I should thank you and apologize in advance for stepping on your feet."

 

It was a slow song, and she'd forgotten. Didn't remember until he pulled her into his arms, his hands respectfully at her waist and not an inch lower. She found her temple resting against his chest as they twirled slowly around the dancefloor. It should have been strange, but it was oddly soothing. Her eyes slipped shut.

 

"I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight…"

 

Rey blinked slowly. Ben was singing? So softly, it was mostly unheard. It sounded really good, and she tilted her head up. She put her arms around his neck and smiled.

 

"Ben Solo, did you have them play this song for me?"

 

"Perhaps," he said, not meeting her eyes. His roved over the other occupants of the dancefloor. There weren't many. It was early in the night for dancing. "None of us would be driving without our crew. That man was a fucking idiot."

 

"What?"

 

A possessive anger was in his eyes, and it sent a zing down her spine. She had no idea what was happening anymore. He wanted her here at the party, he'd played this song to make her feel better about being homesick. He'd 'rescued her' from a blithering idiot, he was dancing with her, and he looked so angry that the exchange with Bald-y had happened at all.

 

Rey let out a nervous breath and decided to go for it.

 

"Ben?"

 

His eyes swung down to hers. "Yes?"

 

For a moment, she let herself get lost in those eyes. They were so brown, and under all this lighting, they were almost gold. He held her gaze without flinching, and warmth creeped through her stomach and tingled.

 

She found her courage once more.

 

"Might I buy you a drink?"


	11. Touching, Discovering You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slight delay, everyone. Time got away from me! Been a busy last few days.

 

One.

 

* * *

 

 

The autumn wind pulled at Ben's hair. He was watching the lake, where the water was rippling in waves. There were drying tear tracks on his face, but new tears were making it impossible to stay that way. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides—what he always did when he was angry.

 

* * *

 

 

            Two.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben stood at his mother's side. His father had his arm around her shoulders. All three were focused on the casket being lowered into the ground, covered in roses and ornaments, so much so that the blanket beneath them couldn't be seen. Gray clouds played on the horizon. The very air was somber… fitting for the event of the day.

 

* * *

 

 

                        Three.

 

* * *

 

 

"I know you're upset," Leia said, placing a hand on Ben's shoulder. He was at the window of his grandfather's study, looking down upon the grounds of their castle, and had been for hours. "Please come eat something? Your father and I are very worried about you…"

 

* * *

 

 

Breathe.

 

* * *

 

 

Anakin smiled, the sun shining behind his head and casting most of his face in shadow. He knelt to Ben's level and gripped his shoulder. Silver threaded his dark brown hair, and he'd cut it short recently, so that it was close to his head. "You are loved, Ben. You are very, very loved. Even by your father. I know that's not what you want to hear…"

 

* * *

 

 

                        It will be all right.

 

* * *

 

 

"Oh, I missed you while you were away at school!" Padmé grasped Ben up from under his arms and swung him onto her hip. Anakin laughed and ruffled Ben's hair, Ben's grandparents beaming happily at him. "I wish they would let you be tutored at home. Maybe this year your father will agree, hm?"

 

* * *

 

 

            _I promise._

* * *

 

 

"Might I buy you a drink?"

 

Ben looked at the woman in his arms. They were slowly swaying their way around the dancefloor. He had the idea that Rey would be a natural at it, should she ever take classes. She had that sort of grace about her.

 

 _"Just the way you look tonight."_ Tony Bennett's piano keys faded, signaling the end of the song.

 

Wait, what had she asked him?

 

To buy him a drink?

 

His stomach did something it hadn't since—well, ever.

 

It fluttered and grew tight and warm.  

 

"Are you sure?" he found himself asking.

 

"Why wouldn't I be?" Her smile spreading, she grabbed his hand and pulled him off the dancefloor. It was parallel to what he had done to her a song ago. He found himself oddly enjoying it. He never let anyone drag him around. He was a prince. "Come on, there's the bar."

 

* * *

 

 

"Shots or drinks?" Rey asked, leaning her elbows on the bar top and tapping her fingers to the rhythm of the current song. They had just sat down, and her co-workers had cleared the area. They hadn't been told to, either. Hm.

 

"I am nearly thirty," he replied. "Drinks, preferably."

 

Rey grinned, and it was absolutely devious. She knew exactly how to needle him, after all. "That quick to call in defeat? I'm disappointed in you, Solo. I would have never figured you to be a coward."

 

Ben's eyes narrowed. "Woman, quit testing my patience."

 

"Well, _I'm_ getting tequila," she said. "Because even though I hate it, and I like vodka much better, I'm going to follow a cliché."

 

"Aren't shots a cliché?" Ben mumbled.

 

"What was that?"

 

"Fine!" he growled. "We'll do shots."

 

"Great!" She beamed perkily at him. "What do you think will suffice? You do have a race tomorrow… Four each?"

 

He set his jaw. He knew he had the race, she could see it in his eyes, the deliberation. To lose by leaving and being responsible or stay and win by reclaiming his dignity. Damned woman. She was deuced impossible.

 

The bartender stood off to the side, waiting for their decision. It wasn't a large bar, and most of the partygoers were drinking the champagne being passed around in flutes. He had time to kill while they debated.

 

Ben jerked his head in his direction.

 

The other man got to work.

 

"What happened to a drink?" Ben murmured to her, having to lean a little closer to her ear to ensure she heard him.

 

"I realized a drink isn't enough," she replied.

 

Before he could question what she meant, eight shots were lined up on the bar with salt and limes. Stuart, as it read on his nametag, told them to have fun and resumed washing glasses, which was what he had been up to when they sat down.

 

"It's going to take more than a drink for us to become comfortable around one another," Rey reasoned. "I figured, what's the quickest way to take the edge off?"

 

Ben's eyes grew thoughtful. He knew she was right.

 

"All right," he said at last. "But four only. I _do_ have a race tomorrow."

 

"Yes, I know, I pointed that out already," Rey said, sprinkling salt on her hand. "Keep up."

 

She slammed the glass down on the bar, followed swiftly by Ben. He gave her a competitive look.

 

"This isn't a contest," Rey said. "It's a way of getting to know one another."

 

"It's a contest," he retorted.

 

"Yeah, you're right," she agreed.

 

Salt, lick, tequila, lime, shot glass on the bar.

 

Rey was flushed already. She paused for a moment, her thoughts having grown somewhat foggy. She'd always been a lightweight. She couldn't detect Ben. He seemed all right on the surface, but who knew what was happening in that head of his?

 

"I suppose now is the time to talk," Ben said.

 

Rey grinned and grabbed onto his arm. He raised his eyebrows first at her hands, and then at her. It only served to deepen her grin.

 

"Hi," she said.

 

"Hello," he replied cautiously.

 

"Ready for the third?"

 

"Yes," he said slowly.

 

"All right, then, bottoms up!"

 

Salt, lick, tequila, lime, shot glass on the bar.

 

"You know, I hated you until you told me you didn't hate me," Rey said, giggling uncontrollably. She slapped a hand against the bar. "I didn't know what to do. It turned my entire world upside down."

 

"You get distinctly more British when you're drunk," Ben said.

 

"What?"

 

"The accent."

 

"Oh. Yes. Well…"

 

"I didn't realize I didn't hate you until I said it, either," Ben said. A reluctant smile spread over his mouth, and then he was chuckling. Between that and her giggles, laughter inevitably spread between them a moment later.

 

"Why did you hate me?" she asked excitedly. "Go on, I _must_ know."

 

Ben reached for the last shot glass, and she mimicked him.

 

Salt, lick, tequila, lime, shot glass on the bar.

 

"Why don't you hate me is the better question?" Judging by Ben's expression, he was getting drunk himself. Not on her level, no, but intoxicated nonetheless.

 

"What kind of question is that?" Rey giggled.

 

"I'm terrible," he said. "Everyone hates me." He waved a hand. "I'm an asshole, I'm a douche, I'll die alone because I can't open up to anyone."

 

"That got real o'clock," Rey laughed.

 

"Oh, sorry," he laughed in return. "I'm unwanted by most of society, so why did you ask me for a drink and then subsequently renege on said proposal?"

 

"I don't know, you were being sweet," Rey said. "And you know you're intensely attractive. It made me want to get to know you more."

 

"I am _not_ intensely attractive," he denied, playing with a shot glass by thumping it against the bar. He kept his eyes on the liquor stacked on shelves. "You are, though."

 

"I am _not_ ," Rey replied. God, could her cheeks get any hotter? "Shut up!" She shoved his arm.

 

He laughed as he swayed on his stool. "You are!"

 

"I've got ordinary hair, ordinary eyes, an ordinary height, an ordinary body—"

 

"You're fucking beautiful," he said.

 

The wind left her sails.

 

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

 

She thought she made some approximation of a question mark, her words garbled and nonsensical.

 

"I am. Let's get some food—get something in your stomach to soak up all that tequila."

 

"I'm fine! But… food does sound good." She was proud of herself for managing to sound normal and not like a sixteen-year-old at a concert for Justin Bieber. "Here, let me grab my wallet…" She hunted for her clutch, snagged her card, held it out to the bartender—

 

He shook his head mutely.

 

"But I'm paying!" she said, confused.

 

He nodded to Ben.

 

"Ben!" Rey groaned. "I said I was going to pay!"

 

"You said you would buy me a _drink_ ," he returned. "That was not a drink." He helped her onto her feet, and she shrugged her shawl closer. "Let's go to the car waiting for me. We can order food and wait for it to be delivered to us."

 

It took Rey a moment to piece together he meant a limo, and that he wanted them to order food from someplace and then presumably eat it in the car.

 

She shrugged.

 

Yeah, all right.


	12. I Hope That You'll Find Your Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The heat is picking up. I think you'll be pleased by chapter's end. (No, it's not porn.)

 

_The person who tries to live alone will not succeed as a human being._

_His heart withers if it does not answer another heart._

_His mind shrinks away if he hears only the echoes of his own thoughts_

_and finds no other inspiration._

-Pearl S. Buck

 

_The more you look, the less you see_

_So close your eyes, and start to breathe_

_Oh, you said yourself: "This wasn't easy"_

-Canvas, Imogen Heap

                                                                  

 

Rey had always been a happy drunk. She couldn't drink in the States, sure, but this was France. Oh, joy of joys. It was nice to be in a country that made sense when it came to liquor laws.

 

"Where do you want to get food from?" she asked, as though she had any idea of the restaurant layout in Paris. She'd been here before, but it had been a long time ago, with her father. They'd taken a tour around Europe. She'd wanted to backpack it out, and that hadn't gone over so well with him. Apparently, staying in a hostel would be the most unforgivable of sins.

 

Food sounded absolutely amazing right now. She hadn't had a chance to eat before she'd showered and come to the shindig.

 

"Anywhere will do take-out if you pay enough," Ben informed her. He hooked her arm in his, guiding her along. She thought it may have been because he was as unsteady as she was, and he was masking it better.

 

Ha!

 

Four shots of tequila would give any non-alcoholic a good buzz.

 

The limo driver jerked to attention as they came up to the vehicle. The bloke took in Ben's half-cut appearance and the fact that he was with a woman. There was a brief flicker of curiosity and shock on his face, and then it was gone. He was paid well enough not to comment with more than an expression. Probably.

 

"Italian?" Ben asked, helping Rey into the car himself. He slid in after her. "And then the garage. It'll be quiet this late."

 

Italian in France?

 

Well, she liked Italian, so… it was fine.

 

"That sounds good." She shifted nervously. The noise of the party was gone. She was alone in a car with Ben Solo. Why hadn't she thought that through?

 

Oh, right.

 

Because she was hammered.

 

She really needed to stop using the expression "tossed" for drunk, it was absolutely filthy, yet she could never seem to help herself.

 

These seats were so comfortable.

 

She ran her hand over the leather, gazing all around the compartment. It was fully loaded. Of course, it was. This was a prince.

 

"Why don't you have more security?" she mumbled. She straightened, because more importantly: "Don't think this makes us friends." She waggled a finger at him.

 

"I wouldn't dream of it," Ben said heartily. "We're simply going to get dinner, check on the cars, and never speak about it again."

 

"Have you ever _had_ friends?" Rey asked. Ben stiffened. "That came out wrong! I'm sorry—oh, God, I'm sorry. You just—you seem so lonely all the time…" When he kept staring at her, she hastened along in her rambling. "I talk too much when I'm drunk."

 

The prince rolled his eyes. "My security is loose because I come from a very small country, and—"

 

"Like Genovia?"

 

"What?" he asked in confusion.

 

"You know, the _Princess Diar…_ No? Okay. Well, go on, then."

 

"I have someone always in the shadows. His name is Rellen."

 

"Like a bodyguard?"

 

"Yes. And I pay him handsomely to stay out of my way."

 

Interesting.

 

Ben gave orders to the driver to head to the nearest four-star or better Italian restaurant and throw money at them until they packed a bag of to-go boxes. He settled into his seat and sighed, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

 

_Ding-ding. Ding-ding. Ding-ding. Ding-ding._

"Who the _hell_ is sending you so many messages?" Ben asked.

 

"Um… no one." Rey turned her phone on silent. She could reply to Poe later.

 

"What's that on the back of your phone?" Ben squinted at it, his arms folded.

 

"This?" Rey turned it over. "It's a Deathly Hallows sticker."

 

Another blank expression.

 

"You're not in any fandoms at all, are you?" she asked him.

 

"I don't even know what a fandom is."

 

That didn't surprise her as much as she thought it should.

 

"You'll never get to know it, but I'm actually a very supportive and reliable friend," she said. "I'm a good friend. A great friend, really."

 

"Are you still pretending you don't want to be my friend?"

 

Rey laughed—loudly, because of her inebriation. She could have commented on his ego and chose instead to poke her fingertip at the corner of his mouth. She lifted it. "You know, you should smile more, you're always so grumpy."

 

He looked like he was making an effort to keep his lips pressed into their usual thin line. They twitched, so he turned his face away.

 

"You will never get to know it, but I _do_ smile. Occasionally."

 

She continued to shove the corner of his mouth up, and he snapped at her finger. He almost caught it, too. She pulled it to safety with another laugh after a sound of surprise.

 

"I do enjoy things sometimes, you know," he persisted. "I'm only _mostly_ a robot."

 

She grinned. He'd made a joke. Robots didn't make jokes. "What sorts of things do you enjoy, then? I don't believe you in the slightest." She kicked off her heels and pulled her legs up onto the seat with her, facing him completely. "Proof, or it's not true."

 

"Do you think I drive because I hate it?" he drawled. He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankle. The limo slowed to a crawl. Had the driver gone out to argue for their food? "I also practice martial arts."

 

Martial arts? Oi, they had something in common.

 

Ben turned smug. "There, that's two things. What about you? What do you do when you're not avoiding accepting Dameron's puppy-dog devotion and keeping my cars working?"

 

"I've taken martial arts, too," she disclosed. "We should fight it out sometime. Maybe it'll help relieve stress." But she sighed and fiddled with her phone, rolling it round and round with her fingers. He'd reminded her of Poe. "I read, I research, I… play video games." Her lips twitched. "And I actually enjoy keeping your cars working. What I _don't_ appreciate is your stalker-dom."

 

She knocked her fist lightly on his arm. "You should get better at that. I have the feeling you're not supposed to be so obvious."

 

The man glared at her, yet his eyes weren't frosty or angry in the least. Rey had to swallow another grin. "You insist that I stalk you at every opportunity, and it is simply not true."

 

"It is the truest thing I've ever known," she giggled. "If there's one thing I can count on during the day, it's that you'll be around the corner somewhere."

 

"I was _not_ stalking you—"

 

"You're so serious!" Rey laughed harder. "Next time we're home, you should go to this restaurant called Rice Box. I know that you like your four-star or higher restaurants, but this place does have the best sushi. The spicy tuna in particular."

 

"Why are we talking about sushi?"

 

"Because I reverse-stalked you by showing up at that Japanese steakhouse. Thought I'd mention it." She shrugged.

 

His eyes remained narrowed.

 

"Oh, come on, now, lighten up! You're so serious!"

 

Without breaking his glare, Ben reached over and turned on the interior light. "Light enough?"

 

"Oh, pish." She turned it back off. "Bloody hell, I'm close to wasted. I'm really looking forward to the food. I'm so hungry."

 

Rather abruptly, she remembered the reason why they were there—because she'd asked to buy him a drink, they'd pounded a few shots, and they'd left the party to…

 

What on earth were they doing?

 

Her head began to spin, and she made a small noise that ended with her forehead resting against his arm. She stayed there all of twenty seconds before she forced her heavy head to rise, remembering some semblance of control. Best to pretend it didn't happen.

 

"You think he's convincing them?" she asked.

 

He leaned against her like it was the easiest thing to do in the world. "If it is too much longer, I'll buy the restaurant." His head tilted until his cheek was resting directly atop Rey's head. She thought she stopped breathing—she hoped he didn't notice.

 

After far, far too long, the driver returned with bags of boxes and boxes of Italian, far more than two people could possibly eat, enough to feed a small army. And it smelled _amazing_.

 

Ben gave the man an appreciative nod and dragged the food in.

 

"As promised," he said.

 

"Please say we can eat in the car and don't have to wait until we get to the garage." Rey's cheeks were flaming red, even beneath the alcohol. She couldn't forget about the fact that he'd rested _his cheek on her head_.

 

It was the tequila. It had to be. Powerful thing, tequila was.

 

To distract herself from her embarrassment, she poked through a bag and pulled out what smelled like garlic bread. When she opened it, it was full of breadsticks. Without waiting for permission, she grabbed a napkin from the bag and began to eat one. She was ravenous.

 

Ben snagged a breadstick and a napkin from her while he pawed through the other offerings. "Feel free. It's not as if I'll have to live with the smell of garlic and marinara while traveling at top speeds at sweltering temperatures."

 

"Maybe you shouldn't speed when you're not racing," Rey muttered. "And maybe you shouldn't eat garlic and marinara while driving, that's a terrible idea."

 

Ben snorted. "What martial arts do you practice?" He twirled his breadstick.

 

She thought of how to answer while she chewed. "When I said martial arts, I meant more… Krav Maga. My father wasn't very, um… sold on the idea of anything other than extreme protection." She shrugged. "Worked out in the end. I don't live in the safest of areas, and I work with all men. I like being able to take care of myself. Although strangely, he preferred Judo himself."

 

Rey grinned at him. "What are you, a black belt?"

 

"Something of the sort. It's not a martial art widely practiced. Local, really." He twirled the breadstick once more, almost absently. "Another family matter, like the cars. I think I'm rather good, at least." He glanced sidelong at her as he continued tossing the breadstick in more and more elaborate ways, not even looking at it.

 

Showoff.

 

"We _should_ have a match. Unless now you're afraid."

 

This earned an eyeroll, and Rey reached for another breadstick. "I challenged you first, remember?" She gave him an unimpressed look. "I think I could take you."

 

She pressed her lip between her teeth and she held his gaze, neither of them wavering.

 

"I think I could take you," she said.

 

"Yeah?" he replied.

 

She purposefully tickled his ribs so he would drop his breadstick and its fancy cartwheels. Ben cursed, fumbling, trying to rescue it. His motor skills were still slow, and the limo started moving again. Coupled together, it meant he overestimated his lunge.

 

One moment, his hand was on the breadstick… a millisecond later, he toppled into her. His cheeks and ears burned red, and he pushed upright, his hands going all sorts of places that only made him more vermillion colored. Rey wasn't doing much better in that department.

 

Her heart was pounding, and it was definitely not from the fall.

 

She sat up, straightening her dress as she did so. Seeing that his blush hadn't lessened in the least, she giggled. "That was rather clumsy of you. I had no idea you were so ticklish." The Lord help her, she meant to end it there, she truly did, but her hand had a mind of its own. It was back to Ben's ribs, tickling relentlessly.

 

When had she stopped being nineteen and journeyed into a five-year-old?

 

But his expressions were just so entertaining.

 

This time, Ben didn't even try to catch the new breadstick when it dropped. He flinched away, making a half-hearted attempt to appear as though he was blocking her in a manly fashion of some sort.

 

"I absolutely am _not_!" He failed another dodge. His face contorted. Was he fighting the urge to curl in on himself? "This is beneath my dignity. That is _all_!"

 

"Mmmm," Rey said.

 

"I—am—Ben—SOLO—and I—AM NOT—" He collapsed out of his seat when she found just the right spot, wheezing from trying to choke back his laughter.

 

Rey was laughing with him until she slipped out of her seat with a small shriek and landed on top of him.

 

And now she was fifty shades of scarlet.

 

She kept her face buried against his chest for the moment. She was scared to catch sight of his expression.

 

Rey told herself to pull up, but her fingers curled into his shirt under his jacket, and she wasn't going anywhere. It was entirely unfair how good his body felt.

 

After a suitably long enough moment had passed, she started to sit up, looking anywhere but at him. _Entirely_ unfair. He smelled so good, too, ugh, what was with _that_?

 

They returned to their seats, and Ben shoved a tin of ravioli at her. "Eat. You were hungry, weren't you?" The words were strained, and his blush hadn't left. "If we sober up enough, maybe we can take my normal car for a drive on some of the dangerous roads. You can see what it's like to handle a car in those conditions and stop haranguing me so much."

 

She perked up, actually intrigued. It was enough to push her embarrassment down. "Really? I'd love that!" Inwardly, she smacked herself. _God, woman, get it under control_.

 

Rey opened the ravioli and poked at it with her plastic fork. She traced the tines through sauce, but her thoughts were far, far away. They kept going back to how close their bodies had been. "That is, if you can handle being around me sober."

 

"Perhaps you won't be able to handle me."

 

She went to object, but there was something on his face that told her not to. Some deep pain again.

 

"If we sober up enough, do you want to drive it for a little bit first?"

 

"Oh, hmmm. You'd let me?" She speared a ravioli square. "Because it's not about me handling you. I've always been able to handle you." She cleared her throat. They knew she wasn't talking about the car. "Just so you know."

 

A hint of bitterness tugged at his mouth. He chewed on a breadstick for a few moments before he replied. "Oh, I know. But you're on your own time, you know. You don't have to. Not tonight." No, tonight she was off, she was free to do what she always did at this time. Call Sitrine and go to sleep.

 

"Ah, you're doing it again, you've gone all frowny." Rey didn't like those tortured expressions. She went to poke his lip again, but her thumb brushed over the sharp line of his cheekbone. Realizing what she'd done, she cleared her throat a second time and dropped her hand.

 

"I know I don't have to…" she said. "But—But I want to." Her fingers tightened around her fork. She couldn't bear to meet his gaze. "Is that all right?"

 

"I'm not against it." There was a hint of a smile on his lips. "You're oddly good company when we're not arguing."

 

"Please, you've known that for some time." Rey told her heart to stop fluttering. She was _not_ a five-year-old. She wasn't. The sooner her brain accepted that, the better. Or the sooner her brain processed the tequila.

 

"So are you," she murmured. She put the lid back on the ravioli and attacked a salad, which she'd only now seen. Holy hell, she loved salads. She remembered to chew and continued, "And by that, I mean slightly less insufferable."

 

He laughed without the aid of being tickled. The sound sent all the blood in her body rushing through her ears.

 

She'd never heard him laugh like that, never, not once, maybe not even at all.

 

"I was about to accuse you of being a liar," he chortled. "I'm glad I was mistaken." He forked a tomato from her salad. "Now that we are at least not actively antagonistic, will you _please_ stop telling me I'm too rough on my cars? Must I really demonstrate this tonight?"

 

"I won't stop in a million years—hey, that's mine!" she whined. "Nooo! I love the tomatoes. Awh." She sighed theatrically, which just made him laugh harder. She couldn't frown in the face of that. "You're forgetting we're somewhat drunk, Ben. Remember that you'll go back to disliking me once you've sobered up. I would bet money on it."

 

"Why do you say that?" He chewed the tomato slowly, considering her. "We both know it isn't true. And I would take you up on that bet, but money is useless to me. You'll have to do better than that."

 

They tiptoed around admitting they liked one another, and were even friends, so much that Rey thought they might have developed a new dance. It was called "A Denial to Remember."

 

"You do realize you sound like you're soliciting me for sex, right? Just so we're clear on that." She finished with the salad and placed it carefully back in the bag with her other empty container. No one could say she wasn't neat, even whilst drunk. "And you say you don't sexually harass me."

 

His ears were glowing. "I didn't mean—" He trailed off in a way that made Rey's heart flutter. He was thinking about it, wasn't he?

 

He cleared his throat and looked away. "I didn't mean that."

 

When Ben blushed, Rey blushed. That seemed to be an established pattern. "I—I know." She'd only been teasing him, but with how he was reacting… "It was a joke," she said weakly.

 

She didn't know what to say for several moments. Her eyes were glued to his profile for most of them, which meant for far too long. She wrenched her eyes down and cleared her throat in a light manner, something not weighted with gravity.

 

"Well, you can show me all the crazy things you do in your car. And then after, I can prove to you that you're wrong. How does that sound?"

 

Ben was slightly disappointed. She could tell. Either he didn't hide it very well, or she was getting more apt at reading him. There wasn't much to it most of the time, honestly. Sulk, brood, grouch, skulk.

 

He nodded. "It's a d… deal." Pretending he hadn't stuttered, he put the lid on his own tin. There was plenty of food left, but neither of them were hungry anymore, and the food they _had_ partaken of had soaked up most of the tequila. The pleasant haze that had been covering them was dissipating.

 

"You still have to put up something to bet," he reminded her.

 

Rey giggled. She wasn't entirely sobered up, not quite yet. "All right." She pulled on a serious face, one of the ones he made so many times. He scowled, and she grinned. "If I win, I get the satisfaction that you're the complete moron I think you are. And if _you_ win…"

 

He was hanging onto her every word.

 

"Well, then you can touch my tits." Her grin turned dark. She was confident she wouldn't lose.

 

She wondered if he'd take her up on the challenge or chicken out.

 

His glare said otherwise, and then his words. "That's hardly the same thing. If you win, you should at least be allowed to touch my cock."

 

Rey's cheeks were going to burst into flames, she knew it. "A… Assuming I'd even _want_ to touch your cock," she retorted. She had to swallow and look away from him again, staring into the limo.

 

Great. Now it was all she could think about.

 

If she was smart, she would derail this conversation.

 

"Still, it sounds like a fair bet," she said.

 

"You assumed I would want to touch your tits," Ben pointed out. "But it's a deal."

 

* * *

 

 

The silence stretched between them, long and awkward and horrifically sober. Ben was rethinking everything. What the hell had he gotten himself into?

 

When they pulled into he garage, he was definitely sober enough to drive, meaning he was going to have to drink when he got back to the hotel if he wanted to stop replaying their deal. In his mind. Over and over and over again.

 

Fuck.

 

He scrambled out of the limo, then automatically reached in, offering a hand to help her out. She took it, climbing out after him, her other hand gripping her dress. She soothed the wrinkles out, and it was awkward, _they_ were awkward in a way that a blind man would take notice.

 

She cleared throat—began playing with her hands. "Look at you, all sobered up." She leaned up onto her tiptoes. Even in heels, he was much taller than her. Her hand touched his chest as her lips grazed his ear for her murmur. "I hope that doesn't make you turn coward."

 

She was gone with her whiff of perfume, and she was wearing a daring, challenging smile.

 

Fuck.

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

 

Fuckity, fuck, fuck—!

 

"Are you taunting me?" His stomach and groin had clenched when she touched him. "I've never been a coward in my life." He turned on his heel, stalking toward the lockbox where the keys were kept and punching in his personal code. They were taking his regular, not modified Porsche 911 Turbo.

 

He snatched the keys from their marked hook and tossed them at her. "I'll guide you to the roads we'll take, and then I'll show you how to drift."

 

Rey caught the keys. "I thought this was about you showing me how to drive." She spun the keyring around her finger before pressing it to her palm. She started walking toward the Porsche, the clack of her high heels echoing. His eyes tracked her every movement.

 

She paused, looking over her shoulder to see if he was following.

 

She smiled.

 

"Well, hurry up, then, Solo. You've got a bet to lose."


	13. The Prince's Burdens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter. Please don't get used to them! I just couldn't break this one up, and I didn't want to skimp on the details.

 

 

 

Rey drove them to where the route was supposed to be, quiet because she was so nervous and focused. She was in France—it wasn't as though she could ask for directions, really, outside of where Ben told her to go. But she guided the car neatly, as though it were made of porcelain— porcelain quite capable of going slightly above the speed limit.

 

Once she was near the start of Ben's "route," she pulled onto the side of the road. It was dark, with little light from the city. They were high enough up that she could glimpse some hairpin corners. He truly intended to give her a lesson.

 

Rey put the car into park and grabbed the helmet he was handing her. It was an ordinary sports vehicle, yet it seemed that Ben wanted optimized safety in place. She stepped out of the car, on a rush from the trip here despite her nerves. She'd driven the racing cars plenty of times, not for very long, enough to get a grasp on the mechanics. This had been so different.

 

A quiet Ben exchanged places with her, and the doors thumping closed filled the air.

 

The two breathed deeply.

 

This was going to be a dangerous excursion. The good news was that it was late enough that they shouldn't see much traffic. And better still, no police. While Rey pulled on her helmet, Ben did the same, fiddling with the controls on the Porsche. She realized that she'd never seen him driving outside of the race cars. And in those race cars, he drove like a bat out of hell.

 

"This is it," Ben murmured. "Last chance to change your mind."

 

Rey laughed, some of the awkwardness from her sobriety melting away. "I'm ready to watch you fail." It was difficult to see through the helmet, considering how large it was, but she certainly got her point across, because he scowled.

 

"Fail?" He tapped his dash for luck and took the car out of park. "So you want me to touch your breasts?"

 

Rey was glad the night hid her flush. "You're the one dawdling."

 

The prince laughed. He eased the car back onto the road, slow and steady, long enough to get a good look around the corner and make sure they had a clear route. It was a spiral of hills and narrow lanes, those hairpin corners, which were bad enough in the day. At night, they'd be terrifying.

 

He grinned and hit the gas.

 

The Porsche handled like a dream at high speeds, purring as he passed 100mph and kept going. The first turn he'd barely built up enough speed to do more than tap the brakes with his left foot out of habit before drifting around it. The turn less than fifty feet after that was trickier, but he took it without missing a beat.

 

Rey was half-sure she was going to die. At the same time, there was an ecstatic, fresh burst of adrenaline as they whipped about. She gripped onto her seat, trying to stay as still as possible and not let out the squeak building in her throat.

 

It was different when you weren't the one driving. She could feel some of the wear just from a practiced ear. At the same time, however, he was smooth—and he took risks no one else would dare to. Though it should have made her grip her seat tighter, she relaxed it, strangely feeling safe.

 

For the sake of the bet she suspected they both wanted to lose, she concentrated on the strain of the engine, the pressure on the brakes, the grip of the clutch. The hills flashed past, each dark turn presenting itself like a vision of hell, one that Ben expertly handled at the usual cost of his car.

 

Her heart skipped a beat. She… She _did_ want to lose the bet.

 

Her attention was drawn to the road. The route should be coming to an end by now. Not only had they been in the car a while, but the hills weren't quite so tall. She was almost sad. This was a natural high, and she didn't want to come down from it.

 

The first downshift when they started running out of safe driving space felt like a sigh. There were no grinding of the gears or jerk as they slowed, just a gentle slide back into legal speeds. Ben drove for a few more minutes even after they'd slowed; he always liked the moments after a good run. It was like an afterglow.

 

It was also enough time for his semi-erection to fade.

 

Eventually, he pulled off to the side, making sure to find a spot far enough off the road that the next person driving too fast in the dark wouldn't hit them. Then he pulled off his helmet and looked at her expectantly.

 

Rey took off her helmet more slowly, buying herself time to think. She held it on her lap as she reached up to smooth her hair back into place. She could tell the truth, or she could lie… either outcome was enticing. But if she won, he was at her mercy—she would get to watch him squirm with embarrassment.

 

"Sorry," she said. She leaned back in her seat, head tilted toward him with a smile. "There were a number of things that are really wearing on your car. Although I won't say I didn't like being in the car with you while you raced."

 

Ben's eyes narrowed. She was lying. He knew she was lying, or that whatever she was complaining about was necessary when driving at high speeds.

 

It was in him to argue. He wanted to win. Competition drove so much of his life. But… maybe he wanted to lose, too. And that was just inconvenient.

 

"Is that so? I suppose that means you have won."

 

Rey could see in his eyes that the charade was up, but he kept on with it, anyway. A slither of heat passed through her, made her suppress a shiver.

 

"I suppose it does, doesn't it?" she said with far more confidence than she felt. She could have clapped herself on the back for how steady her voice was. "I remember being promised a certain reward? Unless you're going to back out. But… you _did_ say you weren't a coward." Her smile grew sly.

 

What the hell was she doing? Even a _day_ ago, she would have called herself crazy. But the glow of the race was inside of her, a hot ball in her heart, and he didn't seem like he wanted to back out.

 

"Right?" she prompted.

 

It was dark, the road as empty as anything got, and they were in a car made for speed. But still… Ben didn't think he could back down. He _wasn't_ a coward.

 

"Would you like to collect later, then? Or now?" He unhooked his seatbelt and got more comfortable. He hoped it was dark enough that she couldn't see his blush. He was _not_ going to back down from this. He wasn't a coward, he could say it over and over and over again. He would just have to figure out how to deal with wanting it later.

 

"Now, I think," Rey replied. There was no way _she'd_ have the courage if they didn't do it here and now. She pulled her fingers through her hair to straighten it out again from where the helmet had crushed it. "So let's see it. If you're small, I _will_ laugh. I just thought you should know." She arched an eyebrow and kept her gaze on his, a slight smile on her mouth.

 

Ah, sarcasm, and how it made it easier to cope with out of this world situations. And it was out of this world. It was Ben Solo—Rey Kenobi. At each other's throats from the moment they'd properly met.

 

Ben waited a beat to give her time to change her mind while knowing she was as stubborn as he was. He shifted to face her more in his seat. His reached down to open his trousers and then paused.

 

"Would you like to do the honors?" he murmured in the quiet of the car. "I don't expect you'll have any reason to laugh." His own smirk was challenging as he removed his hand, shifting his hips enough that she could handle things herself, so to speak.

 

"Well, I should hope so," Rey countered.

 

She almost backed down when he put the ball firmly in her court. She was afraid it showed in her eyes for a moment. But then her expression grew more determined, and she shrugged casually. She would _not_ back down first.

 

Shifting closer in the car, grateful anew for the darkness, she clenched her firsts for several moments to rid them of their trembles. Once she was sure she wasn't shaking anymore, she lowered them to the front of his pants. Oh, God. Oh, God, okay, this was really happening. It was like he'd said earlier—this was the final chance to back out, not from the deal, but from the act of the deal.

 

With a swallow, she looked up to catch his eyes. Her teeth sank into her lower lip, and she leaned forward until her forehead rested against his. She stayed there, forcing herself to breathe lightly as her fingers got his pants open. She was close, so close, enough to feel his breath on her lips.

 

Ben wanted to close his eyes, but he didn't want to look weak. So he met hers boldly as she opened his pants. He'd willed away most of his erection from driving, but it was coming back in full force thanks to the tension between them.

 

"Scared?" The word was low, taunting, soft enough that it was easy to hide the faint tremble in his voice.

 

She wasn't going to shy away from his dick, for fuck's sake. That was the one thing he knew better than to be sensitive about. He'd been with enough girls to know that he had nothing to be ashamed of. Now if only his nerves would remember that.

 

"You wish," she murmured, unable to lift her voice any higher than that. She was a little scared, but he wasn't pulling away, making it easy to get lost in his gaze.

 

She finally lowered her own eyes, closing them, staying close. In the silence of the car, as she reached in to find him, her breath stuttered. Her free hand lifted to his shoulder, gripping onto him. She opened her eyes once more to peer into his as her hand cleared the waistband of his boxers and pulled him out, his skin soft and warm beneath her touch.

 

She couldn't believe she was doing this, she couldn't believe she was doing this.

 

Rey's brows lightly furrowed, and she curled her fingers around him with a delicate squeeze. She knew she had only promised a touch, but she rubbed her fingers a little along his length and squeezed again.

 

The way Ben's breath stuttered was audible in the heavy silence between them. He needed to pull away. She got her touch, got her shot at humiliating him. He'd won this round. The fact that she couldn't even look him in the eye as she touched his cock was all the victory lap he needed.

 

Her hand was warm and soft, callused from her work on his cars, and it was something he should stop thinking about before he accidentally memorized it. There were so many smart moves he could be making, which was why there was no excuse when he tilted his head just enough to brush their lips together.

 

"I told you that I wouldn't be laughing," he whispered.

 

Rey thought her heart faltered. She swallowed again and stayed close, their foreheads still pressed together. "You did." She whispered it back, because he had, and also because her skin was tight all over and she had no idea what to say.

 

He was big.

 

Really big.

 

It was making her think so many things she shouldn't be thinking about, but he was right there, and she was brushing her lips over his, as lightly as he had done to hers. She made her grip firmer and started to move her wrist along his cock. She was definitely going above and beyond what was supposed to happen.

 

Why was she doing this?

 

Because… because she wanted him.

 

She wasn't sure how or in what capacity, but she did.

 

Her free hand moved to cup the side of his throat, her thumb brushing under his jaw.

 

Ben pressed his lips to hers again, a firmer kiss. He was pretty sure he'd gone mad, but a quick accounting suggested he probably went mad months ago and it was only now catching up with him. May as well go with it.

 

The third kiss he bestowed on her parted her lips, his tongue slipping out to brush over them. A small part of him kept waiting for her to laugh, or shove him away, but most of him knew she was just as mad as he was. He reached down and pulled the lever that let him push the seat back and looked at her questioningly.

 

She was mad, she was mad, she was mad, now was the time to stop, to plea insanity. But Rey's lips tingled from the ghost of his tongue, and she didn't want to stop touching him.

 

She climbed carefully into his lap, giggling only once when she bumped her head on the roof of the car. She sobered quickly as her hand returned to gripping his cock. She checked his expression, making sure he still wanted this, hadn't entirely changed his mind in the last thirty seconds.

 

His dark eyes were unreadable, but she thought they were filled with heat.

 

Taking a breath, she put a hand on his chest, pushing him back against the seat where it was lowered. She leaned down, her nose brushing along his. She watched his expression still, moving her hand a little more firmly. She closed her eyes as her lips touched his.

 

Ben was going to have a hell of a time pretending they weren't not-friends after this, or more. He wasn't sure it was worth trying.

 

His hands slid up her thighs, pushing the skirts of her evening gown over his wrists. She was wearing tights, but they only came up to the middle of her thighs. The transition from cloth to skin made his breath catch. He rose a little to push harder into the kiss, parting her lips for his own.

 

He didn't know what they were doing. There was no way this could end well. They were going to have to work with one another after this. Yet none of that stopped his hands from sliding even higher up to grasp her ass and squeeze it.

 

Rey let out a shaky groan, a soft one in the confines of the car. She hadn't thought far enough ahead for if he wanted to touch her, but now his hands were on her, and… and it was making her absolutely dizzy. How was she expected to string two coherent thoughts together?

 

She gained a small ounce of courage of her own to push her tongue into his mouth. Just the graze of hers against his flashed heat inside of her, and she grew flushed all over.

 

Her eyes were closed again, and she'd forgotten everything, anything that mattered. She jerked her wrist into a pace she was familiar with, a firm squeeze and a hard jerk accompanying the movements. She could feel his precum against her fingers, making her hold slicker. Kissing him was like kissing a dark prince, and she was sure she wasn't supposed to like it so much.

 

She set her teeth to his lower lip. She was using some of her best work here—she hadn't ever tried this hard even with Poe.

 

Ben groaned, his hips flexing, rocking up the little bit he was able. It was just a hand, but his attention locked on it with a laser focus.

 

He squeezed her ass by rote, playing his fingers along her inner thighs, brushing them up against her cunt. The heat of her body over his had him sweating.

 

"If—If you keep that up, I'll end up ruining your dress…" He squeezed her ass again and then deliberately ran his fingers up the length of her cunt. He opened his eyes to stare challengingly into hers, even though hers were closed, silently daring her to even think about stopping.

 

The words made Rey's stomach clench, and then he was touching her cunt, and that was clenching, too. She could feel his gaze on hers, and so she opened her eyes.

 

He wanted her. He was daring her, and he wanted her.

 

Her breath stuttered, and she let out of his cock with one last, lingering caress. She remembered how his groan had sounded, how hearing it had been a triumph.

 

"What do you want?" she asked softly, a challenge of her own.

 

"I don't know," Ben admitted. "You, now. Later?" One of his shoulders moved in a shrug. He held her gaze, letting her see that he was being as honest with her as he had ever been. Maybe more-so. But there was nothing worth hiding right now, at any rate.

 

"What do you want? You got your prize." He glanced down at his cock, where the precum was smeared down the shaft by her fingers, and then back up at her. "What next?"

 

"That's what I'm asking you. What…" She got close enough to hook her teeth over his ear. "…do you want? There's no reason we both can't be winners." One of her hands played down his chest, down until she gripped his hand, guiding it back between her legs. "You seemed like you wanted to touch me here… Right?" She nibbled his earlobe.

 

She was a basket of nerves, but she didn't think it was showing.

 

Ben rubbed her cunt slowly, following the lines of her folds through her panties. He could imagine what the flesh would feel like under his fingers, what she might taste like, and it made him lick his lips.

 

"So I did." What did he want? Damn it, she was going to make him say it. "Before we go any further, I think I should make something clear. I meant it when I said I don't hate you. You frustrate me to no ends, but I could never…" He cleared his throat. "I never hated you."

 

Rey looked down at his face. It was hard to keep a straight face when he was rubbing her like that. Her breath hitched, and she wet her lips. "…Okay." It said something that he wanted her to know that, right now, in this moment. It said a lot of things, things she wasn't even sure she was ready to look at yet.

 

"I never hated you, either… Like I said…" A half smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "I may have wanted to incapacitate you at times, but I never hated you."

 

His smile widened. "Good to hear."

 

Ben kissed her again, twisting his legs to slide a little lower on the seat so that, if she wanted, she could easily sit on him. His fingers slipped under her panties, trailing directly over her cunt without even damp silk between them. Two of his fingers pressed into her, just to the first knuckle, playing teasingly at her entrance. His thumb snuck up to rub over her clit.

 

"Still time to save your dress," he reminded her.

 

Rey bit the inside of her lip, her hips jerking into his touches. Her clit had always been really sensitive, and her cunt grew even damper against his fingertips.

 

"You're awfully concerned about my dress," she whispered. She didn't trust her voice to speak any louder without trembling. It didn't help that he smiled at her like that. The sight of it had gone straight to her heart.

 

Her knees slid into the space he'd made for her. "Still time to save your pants." She crooked an eyebrow at him daringly.

 

He laughed and pushed his fingers into her a little further, curling them. "Maybe I just think you would look better out of it." But the inside of a car wasn't bad. It was almost fitting for them.

 

He circled his thumb playfully around her clit. He only brushed it here and there, teasing her more than anything. "I don't care about my pants if you don't care about your dress."

 

 _He's such a tease!_ Rey thought. Why was she surprised?

 

She tried to decide about her dress. He was only half-joking, sure. But she figured if they were going to get caught boning in a car on the side of the road, she would get in trouble whether or not she kept her dress on.

 

She unzipped it—it had an easy reach in the back—and then tugged it off and over her head. What was left was a toned body. She had abs, and not from being skinny.

 

She was glad she wore good underwear. Her brace was lacy and matched her panties, which almost never happened. Maybe she'd had a sixth sense about tonight.

 

Still, she flushed more as she took off her bra and flung it to the side with her dress. She didn't have much in the way of breasts, and she knew it. But maybe he wouldn't mind.

 

A fresh groan rumbled in Ben's throat, and he kissed her again. He gripped her hips and settled her over his cock so that the shaft was sliding over her clit. The fingers he trailed over her breast were still damp enough that when he bowed his head to lick her nipple, he could taste her there.

 

The downside to sex in a car was that it was damned difficult to move, but he was fairly certain it was going to be worth it. She was gorgeous, and he showed it in how his hips rose up to grind into her, the movement of his lips over her breast. All they'd have to do was pull aside her panties to finish this.

 

Rey slid her fingers into his hair, and she grasped onto the fact that she'd wanted to touch it since she first saw him. A quiet groan escaped her from his touches, from how he felt. She tried to determine if she was ready for this, but she was. Ready for living in the moment, at any rate.

 

She felt how much he wanted her, not just from his cock against her. It was in the care he took to her body, his touches soft and intimate. If nothing else came from this, she would at least have the satisfaction of knowing that.

 

Her entrance grinded over the head over him, where her panties still were. She pulled them aside, the easiest way for them to have sex like this. But she didn't guide him into her, didn't touch him. She watched him. She wanted him to be the one to do it.

 

Ben left her breast with a last kiss so he could look at her face as he pushed the head of his cock into her entrance. He knew he was too large for some women, so he was careful as he slid inside, watching for even a hint of a wince. But she opened up easily, her body making room for him as if he belonged there.

 

He moaned softly, his eyes lidded as she settled down on his lap, having taken all of him. She was so tight, gripping him with the sort of firmness that came from muscle rather than small size. It scrambled his thoughts for a second and made him struggle to remember how to speak.

 

"…Fuck."

 

Rey made a small noise to second that. She hadn't been sure if he'd fit, but somehow, he was buried in her up to the hilt. And she was stretched so wide, so wide, and she was so full, and it was Ben Solo inside of her.

 

For a moment, she buried her face against his chest, her fingers curling in his shirt. She told herself to stop it—she shouldn't be savoring the moment. But she didn't know if this was going to happen again, and… she wanted to know what it would feel like, being in his arms.

 

Then she pushed up again, her lashes fluttering as she shifted around him. She started moving—it was slow, because of the way they were on the seat, and she didn't want to dislodge him. But it _was_ firm, and a high-pitched sound left her as her hips rocked again and again.

 

Ben's head fell back on the seat. His eyes closed for a second before snapping back open. He wanted to watch her over him.

 

He usually went for curvier women, full-breasted, hourglass figure, but something about seeing her slim form over him made him think she might have ruined that. She might have ruined him in a lot of ways.

 

He couldn't move with her; there wasn't enough room to brace himself, and they were precarious enough as it was. But he had to do _something_ , so he slid a hand between her legs and rubbed at her clit in time with the roll of her hips.

 

"D-Don't do that if—if you don't want the consequences—" Rey gasped. "If you want your pants to stay dry." She blushed only a little now, still grateful the darkness would hide it. She adjusted to where she was rocking in a way that would apply more pressure to his cock.

 

She'd grown comfortable enough on it now, in the space given to her, to move a little faster, almost a bit of a bounce.

 

"I mean it—" she said shakily.

 

Ben looked up at her, and—he could listen, he could back off, but they'd pushed each other in every other way. He was still looking up at her as he did it again, deliberately with as much pressure as he dared. He didn't want to hurt her.

 

"Come on, then—" His voice had grown low and rough. It was hard to even make his mouth move in words that weren't her name. One hand stayed working on her clit while the other slid up her body, squeezing her breasts before hooking around her neck and drawing her down into a kiss.

 

He let himself go against her mouth, tangling their tongues, leaving his mark there since the small space of the driver's seat wouldn't let him do it to her cunt.

 

Rey groaned against him. She'd been planning on warning him again, but now he was kissing her. She shivered as she came, soaking his cock. It made her moan more loudly this time, her fingers digging into his chest.

 

"I—told you—" she gasped out. Hungry for his kisses, she sank back into them, losing herself there, enjoying the taste of him. She shifted on the seat, one of her feet nudging his thigh up, and with that leverage, she could move faster enough if he held his hips just there.

 

Ben felt her orgasm soak through his pants and could only groan. His fingers dug into her, holding her steady as she fucked him.

 

"You—You did—fuck—" he gasped. "Rey—God, again?" He bit almost blindly at her mouth. The way she was riding him had his head spinning. He couldn't think straight; he only knew he wanted to feel her tighten around him.

 

He could feel the tension rising in him, the slow dragging heat he'd been trying to fight back. But he didn't want to slow her down, and that might have been the only thing that could have held him back at that point.

 

Rey couldn't remember most of the times he'd said her name, maybe because it was so rare. Hearing it on his mouth now pulled at her. He wanted more, so she gave it to him, keeping his hand against her clit pointedly before hers dropped away again.

 

The next orgasm crested, and she muffled a soft cry, her head falling back. It had grown really wet, enough to slide up and down him with ease. Her third orgasm was longer than the other two, and she squeezed her eyes shut, forcing her thighs to keep moving, to keep riding him.

 

"Ben—" She hadn't meant to say his name so intimately, but it came out on its own.

 

Ben thought he was holding out, thought he could keep going even as her cunt squeezed like wet velvet around him. Then she said his name like that.

 

He choked on a curse as he came, his hips trying to slam up even though he had no leverage. His vision actually went black for a second time as he came, his head swimming. He came back to himself with his fingers digging into her, too hard to be comfortable. He forced himself to loosen his hold and fell back against the seat, panting for breath.

 

Rey slumped against the window, which was fogged, also panting for breath. She thought he may have bruised her, though she didn't mind. She didn't even know what to do. Her head was spinning all over again. What now?

 

She tugged at the strands of hair sticking to the corner of her mouth. They'd finished. This was probably where she should get off him. But she kissed him, her hands cupping his face.

 

Ben's arms snaked around her waist, cradling her against him. He should probably have been reaching for her dress, but… he liked this. He shouldn't admit that, he suspected. This was already a bad enough of an idea without adding _feelings_.

 

He sighed into her kiss and let it grow soft, gentle, and God, he was so fucked.

 

"We should get back to the garage…" He didn't make a move to let her go, however.

 

"Right…" She wasn't ready to move, either. She rested her temple against his shoulder and stared into the darkness of the night. Why did he feel so good against her?

 

Finally, she sat up and reached for her bra. She notably stayed on top of him, not in any hurry to move. "I… enjoyed it… A lot." She smiled at him a bit shyly as her arms worked behind her to hook the bra into place.

 

Ben watched her getting dressed with a sinking, sick sensation that felt a lot like realizing he might never get to see her undressed again. Still, he smiled back.

 

"So did I. Even if you did cheat." He kissed the corner of her mouth, then sank back only partially, propping himself up on an elbow. "Next time you want to sleep with me, you can just say so, instead of pretending I don't know how to handle a car, hm?"

 

"You _don't_ know how to handle a car," Rey puffed with amusement. "And next time _you_ want to sleep with _me_ , you can just tell me instead of acting like a schoolboy."

 

She got her dress back on, and here was the part to slip off him. She stayed there for a moment, thinking. His expression had said a lot before he covered it up with that smile. He looked like he was losing something.

 

Okay, she really had to get up.

 

She threaded her hands through the silky strands of his hair and kissed him. Then she lifted up, shifting her panties back to where they belonged. She carefully maneuvered over to her side of the car. She kissed him again, rather unable to help herself. She… She didn't want him to think—he… She just didn't.

 

Ben put his dick away; he was going to have to change before going out in public. Or not change and not give a damn.

 

"In my defense, I didn't realize I did until tonight." He caught on to what she was doing, and it was kind of her. Or maybe she just hadn't sobered up enough to cotton on to the fact that she should be running away soon.

 

He cupped her cheek and kissed her back while he could. He wished he didn't know how this was going to end. "We should get back to the garage," he said again.

 

"Right." Rey gave him one last kiss, nuzzling the tip of her nose to his. She sank into her seat and pulled on the seatbelt. Her heart wouldn't stop pounding; it was growing a bit painful. What on earth was wrong with her? She kept thinking of how he felt inside of her, beneath her. The taste of his lips. The sigh of her name.

 

She waited until they were back on the road to take his hand. She kept her gaze focused on the window, on the moon high in the sky.

 

Ben squeezed her hand and lifted it to his lips to kiss the knuckles, as he had done at the party. He didn't know what had come over him. He almost felt… hopeful. That was a surefire way to get hurt.

 

He stayed quiet the entire drive back, and only let go of her hand when he had to shift gears. It was almost sad, when he pulled into the garage and the end of whatever this was finally settled in. He tried to think of it as a good memory to keep, but even that was hard to swallow. He'd rather keep _her_.

 

Strange. Usually he couldn't bother with women, but with her, he couldn't seem to let her go.

 

"Well. This is it."

 

"This is definitely it," Rey nodded in agreement. He'd held her hand for as long as he had, and what was more, he'd wanted to. His actions were speaking louder than his words. But did he even know what he wanted?

 

She tightened her fingers around his and looked at him. She didn't tell him she had a good night—he was too sarcastic for certain things. She'd found that being blunt with him usually achieved the desired results.

 

"Make no mistake, this doesn't mean we're friends…" Her eyes narrowed. "But that doesn't mean I don't want it to happen again." The words were playful, and so was her smile.

 

Ben's eyes narrowed in return, and he tried to estimate how much she was bullshitting him. "I would have thought those two would be mutually exclusive for you." He pulled around and parked the car, then sat back in his seat, still not looking at her. "I'd like to do this again, too."

 

And… He really did like her. Damn it. It hadn't been a fluke of an airline flight, after all.

 

Well, he would have to ween himself off. She was sleeping with Poe fucking Dameron. If she could manage that, he could manage not to get attached to her.

 

"I'd say that sleeping with the boss doesn't mean you get to slack off in the shop, but you probably like my cars more than me anyway." He let go of her hand slid out of the driver's seat.

 

"Ben—wha—hey—wait—!" Rey scrambled out of the car, grabbing her shawl and purse. She caught him by his elbow and pulled him back over to his car. Mostly because it was private and in the shadows there. Less chances of being seen, much less overheard.

 

"If I didn't like you, I wouldn't have let you put your penis inside of me." She whispered it with a bit of a laugh, pulling her hair band out of her clutch to get her hair off her neck. She patted it into place and then resumed walking with a brow arched at him.

 

There was a high possibility he'd deny that that even mattered to him, but she didn't care. It should be said.

 

Ben's brows pulled together in a mixture of consternation and annoyance. "Oh? Kind of you to humor me." He must have mistaken what she meant when she said she didn't want to be friends. He felt like he was being played with, and he hated it even more that she could. It meant he was getting attached. Stupid, stupid, stupid…

 

He shook his head and peeled off from her to go put the keys away, his chin up and his shoulders back, the stately march his mother had taught him as soon as he was steady enough to not need a helping hand. Maybe he had made a mistake with his heart again, but at least he could have his dignity. Even if it was all he had.

 

Rey stared after him, her mouth hanging open.

 

Once her wits returned, she followed him. She waited until she was close to him to speak again, respecting their privacy a second time. "Ben, do you want to tell me why you're so convinced suddenly that I don't like you, when at the airport you were insisting I wanted you as my friend? Come on, this is silly." She grabbed his wrist where it was trying to hang keys and covered it with both of her hands. "I do like you."

 

She wouldn't have joked about it if she had known what a sore spot it would be. He was really upset by the idea that she didn't want to be his friend, didn't like him.

 

"I've never lied to you, have I?" she pressed. She'd always told him _exactly_ what she thought of him.

 

Ben stared at her, and he tried to make his expression hard, fierce, but she'd reached in and touched the part of him he thought he'd strangled a long time ago. Shame the damned thing was still breathing.

 

"No. You haven't. You'll change your mind." The corner of his mouth quirked. "The other day you couldn't stand me. You'll remember why." He twisted out of her hold again and turned away. "Forget it. I enjoyed tonight. If you want to go on another drive, let me know."

 

Rey had known it was coming, but it still hurt regardless.

 

"Oh… s-sure." She walked away from him because her eyes were burning, and she didn't want him to see. Some part of her knew that this was just his defense mechanism, that he clearly had emotional baggage, but… God… This was painful.

 

She managed to keep her tears in until she made it to her room. She closed the door and leaned against it, tilting her head back, her lips quivering. She wiped at her cheeks and nose with a sniffle and a great gasp of breath.

 

She'd take a shower. Maybe just pretend this had never happened. It'd be easier.

 

She hated herself for getting attached. When had that happened? And why was he so convinced she'd go back to only barely tolerating him?

 

Rey's thoughts flashed back to the car—his lips on her breast, his hands on her ass, his fingers rubbing her clit, his groan for more.

 

_"Rey."_

 

Her clutch and shawl dropped to the floor as she buried her face in her hands and cried.


	14. Alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for all the sad faces thrown my way! These two got some emotional baggage.

 

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

"Rey?"

 

Rey blinked and looked up at the therapist. He had his legs crossed and was twirling a pen, his elbow on the armrest of his chair. His glasses were perched low on his nose, and he had an eyebrow raised.

 

_Tick, tock._

"We've sat here for…" He flicked his wrist and examined the time. "Half an hour in complete silence. You really have nothing to say?"

 

_Tick, tock._

 

"I don't know what there is to discuss," she replied.

 

He consulted his papers. "Well, your father spoke of his concerns that you needed someone to talk to who was unbiased. Someone who could…"

 

_Tick, tock._

"…Help you with any lingering emotions from your past. You're sixteen. This is a trying age." He clicked the top of his pen and unclicked it. "I was made to understand that you've become very quiet in the last year?"

 

"I have nothing to say," Rey replied.

 

"Everyone always has something to say," the therapist countered neatly. "It's in choosing whether or not _to_ say it."

 

_Tick, tock._

Rey sighed and looked out the window. Rain was spattered against it, drumming along the roof, a background noise against the clock. She found it easier to observe the gray skies. It was better than looking at the man in the tweed jacket.

 

She knew he was trying to help. She knew her father meant well.

 

She just simply had nothing to say.

 

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

"What about boarding school? Do you feel that the environment is too stifling for you?" the therapist—Mr. Johnson—queried.

 

She crossed her arms and sank deeper into the couch.

 

He sighed and took off his glasses. "Rey, all I need is a little—"

 

"I have nothing to give," she said flatly. "I was abandoned as a child. It was awful. My father adopted me. He spends a fortune ensuring I have a proper education. He is the best parent anyone could ask for. I'm happy. May I go now?"

 

_Tick, tock._

Mr. Johnson frowned and twiddled his pen some more. "Forgive me for being frank, Miss Kenobi, but you hardly seem… happy. I don't fancy myself a detective, but there's shadows under your eyes, which demonstrates a lack of sleep, perhaps."

 

"Sometimes people can't sleep," Rey said. "It doesn't mean anything."

 

"It does when it's paired with the fact that your resting expression is…"

 

"Is what?" She snapped her head up.

 

"Hostile," he murmured. "It's hostile."

 

 _Tick, tock_.

 

"Yeah, because I don't want to be here," Rey huffed.

 

_Tick, tock._

 

"Do you have any friends at school?"

 

Bloody hell, when would this end?

 

_Tick, tock._

"Yes," Rey said. "Yes. May I go now?"

 

"Who are your friends, if I might ask?"

 

She was never getting out of here.

 

_Tick, tock._

"Rey," Mr. Johnson said after some time had passed. "Your father is worried that you have… abandonment issues, and that it is preventing you from living a full, healthy life. It was also mentioned that you have a fairly difficult time trusting anyone."

 

"I'm _fine_ ," Rey insisted.

 

"If that were true, then why are you here today?"

 

"Because my father is extremely protective and clearly worried about me when he shouldn't be. I'm fine. I promise."

 

_Tick, tock._

"I'm fine," she insisted yet again. "Now please. May I go?"

 

Mr. Johnson leaned back in his seat, his expression thoughtful but otherwise unreadable. He flipped to another page in his notes. He had an awful lot of them, and Rey didn't like that. What all had been said to this man?

 

"Are you worried I'll slap a mental disorder on you and send you to a psychiatrist?" he asked.

 

Maybe a little.

 

"This is only a conversation, Rey. A way to gauge how you feel. You're cared for deeply. This does not come from a bad place. Your father simply feels that it may be easier for you to convey any… bad thoughts to an unbiased source, such as myself."

 

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

_Pitter, patter._

Rey set her jaw and shook her head. She couldn't believe she was about to talk to this man. But it was either sit here and listen to his dribble or give him some answers to placate him and get the hell out of there.

 

"I'm all alone," she said.

 

Mr. Johnson was quiet.

 

"Wherever I go. It doesn't matter who's with me. It doesn't matter if I have friends, if I have boyfriends." At least her boarding schools were co-ed. "It doesn't matter that I have a loving father, and it really doesn't matter that I'm here today, talking to you. I am _alone_."

 

_Tick, tock._

"I am…" Tears touched her eyes for the briefest of moments.

 

"Rey—"

 

 _Tick, tock_.

 

"I am _alone_ ," she said in a ragged whisper. "And that will never change."

 

* * *

 

 

Rey tossed her things into her suitcases. Her phone was cradled between her ear and shoulder. "Well, he won," she was saying. "First place. Now we're getting everything ready before we head out to Spielberg."

 

"Austria?"

 

"That's the one. And ten days after _that_ race, we'll be going to the British GP."

 

"Oh, I know you're excited to see your homeland!" Sitrine replied. "Are you going to see your father?"

 

Rey hesitated, buying time to answer by wrapping her blow-dryer cord around the handle.

 

"What is it?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"Why aren't you going to see Mr. Kenobi?"

 

"I didn't say I wasn't!" she replied. "I—I haven't seen him since… I decided to do this. That's all. I'm still thinking of what to say—what reception I'll receive… that sort of thing."

 

"Uh huh."

 

"It's true, Sitrine!" she growled.

 

"My, my, you've been testy today, and I didn't hear so much as a peep from you last night. That's unlike you."

 

"I got home late from the party," Rey snipped. "I was too tired to talk. I texted you that I was sorry."

 

"I'm only observing! Draw the claws back!"

 

"Look, Sitrine, I have to go—"

 

"No, Missy! Not until you tell me what has you in such a snit! What happened? Was it Solo?" Sitrine's tone turned into something quite deadly. "Do I need to commit a murder? And if I do, will you help me cover up the body?"

 

Rey rolled her eyes and zipped up her suitcase. "I'll tell you when I feel like talking about it. I don't right now."

 

"But—"

 

"Just drop it, Sitrine! I've got to go, I've got a plane to catch." She hung up the phone, tossed it into her purse, and grabbed her things.

 

Draw her claws back!

 

Honestly!

 

* * *

 

 

Rey tried not to stomp through the airport. She hadn't seen Ben aside from Sunday, when he'd won, and they'd all celebrated, and she'd stayed in the back. They'd partied that night, again, and she'd begged off. She couldn't deal with him. Not right now.

 

Yes, he had defense mechanisms in place. Yes, he clearly had deep, deep, _deep_ emotional baggage. She did, too. She understood it. That didn't mean she had to like it.

 

She was… embarrassed, to be truthful, and she hated being embarrassed. Thus, her temper. It was going to be difficult to keep a straight, professional face around him. The trouble with that was that they'd never _had_ a professional relationship. From the beginning, they'd been at one another's throats.

 

She was so fucked.

 

* * *

 

 

Her seat was coach, and she kept back for the second time in twenty-four hours. It was either that or see Ben go onto the plane with the rest of the first class people. The rest of the crew lounged about, laughing, having a great time.

 

 _Must be nice_ , she thought bitterly.

 

She kept her Nook in her lap as she read and tried to tune out the rest of the airport. It was _The Duke and I_ by Julia Quinn, Sitrine's suggestion. He'd promised her over and over that it was a good read, Victorian romance though it was. She'd give it a go. He took suggestions for books from her all the time. The least she could do was return the favor.

 

"Chips?" Richard offered.

 

"I'm good, thanks," she mumbled. She had her temple resting against her fist, half-curled in her seat to block out the rest of the world. No intrusions were welcome at this time.

 

Five minutes later, the call for their seats came, and everyone filed into line. Rey sighed, closing her eyes, head tilted back on her shoulders. Her bag was slung over her shoulder, her roller at her side.

 

She'd be fine, she reassured herself. She'd sleep most of the flight and avoid Ben as much as possible until the practice runs. It wouldn't be terribly difficult to do. He wouldn't be stalking her anymore, and they had nothing to say to one another. She was not of his world.

 

Besides… She was used to not being wanted.

 

Rey was ushered into the tunnel that led to the plane. The usual rush of flying finally hit her—her depression/anger had been drowning it out. This was familiar, being in the air, smelling everything, feeling everything. It was comforting, in its own way.

 

All right, now she was on the plane. The trick would be to stare directly ahead and avoid Ben entirely.

 

One step, two step, three step, four.

 

Five, six, seven, eight—

 

A hand grabbed her elbow and yanked a little violently.

 

She half-screeched and flailed, confused as to who the hell her assailant would be. She was released, and she oriented herself.

 

Then she swallowed tightly.

 

She was half-sitting in Ben Solo's lap.

 

His eyes were as dark and brooding as ever.

 

"I have to get to my seat," she stammered.

 

"I always leave a seat empty next to me. Sit here."

 

"I—I don't want to," she replied, wishing her voice would steady itself.

 

"Fine. You're free to go, then," Ben growled. "I was—being… sympathetic. I wanted you to be comfortable for your ride. I can see now that I was mistaken."

 

 _"Everyone always has something to say. It's in choosing whether or not_ to _say it."_

 

Rey cupped his face in her hands, and she bestowed upon his lips the gentlest kiss she could give.

 

She got off his lap, waited to slip into the line heading into coach, and then followed her ticket to her listed seat. She was by the window this time, and she leaned against it, closing her eyes, feeling the sun on her face.


	15. Dare to Move, Dare to Believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully some questions will be answered in this chapter as feelings are explored.

 

_In the changing wind, it echoes deep,_

_Wearing thin, the heart beneath,_

_There's no place to call our own,_

_Like a drifting haze we roam_

-Where Do We Go From Here?, Ruelle

 

Ben's lips skimmed down Rey's throat, drawing a sigh from her. Her fingers slid through his silky raven hair, and she closed her eyes. Her head tilted against the mirror of the lavatory. His large hands worked themselves under her shirt, making a slow climb to her breasts. She moaned his name.

 

The airplane fell away in discarded images, leaving Rey alone, staring out at the terrain of Scotland. The wind was harsh and cold as it tugged at her hair. On the horizon, the sky was gray, ever shifting with gloomy clouds. It was here that she felt most like herself, on the edge of the marshes, a lonely figure in all the world. She was sixteen, so everything was dramatic—the way she felt this place reflected what was in her heart…

 

_"We are born alone, and we die alone, but that does not mean we have to be alone in life. I'm here for you, Rey. You know that. We won't be in Scotland much longer. Come inside, where it's warm."_

Why had they abandoned her?

 

Was it because they couldn't afford to look after her anymore? Was it something she did wrong? They'd been happy, the three of them. Very happy. And then she was alone, abandoned with the other orphans. Ben Kenobi adopted her not long after, but the thought that she must have done something wrong never quite went away.

 

 _"Do you always look this crabby? You should smile more."_ Poe grinned, the sun adding highlights to his dark tumble of curls. _"You're beautiful—don't hide it away."_ He took her hand. _"Here, tell me—tell me everything. I want to know."_

He was pacing, anger pinching his features. _"I don't understand! We've—it's been nearly a_ year _, Rey. And you still don't want to be with me? You still want to date around? Why? Is it me? Is it something I'm doing wrong?"_ And she could hear what he wasn't saying, what was her baggage, what was her problem? Why couldn't she grow attached to him, no matter how much he loved her?

 

She straddled Ben's lap more comfortably in the car. His lips opened beneath hers, and she was lost in the heated taste of him. His hands wandered the length of her body. She arched into his touches, hips rolling as she worked him. She had never imagined he could feel so wonderful, not with how much they argued.

 

Turbulence shook the plane, and Rey woke up, her cheek plastered to the window. How had she fallen asleep? It was a one hour flight. Maybe she was more tired than she had initially thought.

 

She rubbed at her eyes because they felt gummy and sighed. From the looks of things, they would be landing soon. She was looking forward to getting to her hotel room and collapsing for hours. She had a couple of days to herself before the race would take place. She'd catch up on all the sleep she lost there.

 

Rey frowned, debating. There was a man next to her snoring his heart out. She remembered Ben's offer to let her sit beside him, and how she'd kissed him after saying no. Maybe she should give the man a break. He'd been reaching out to her—maybe not in a way that was particularly… pleasant in the end, but reaching out he'd been nonetheless.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, as we begin our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full, upright position. Please ensure your seatbelt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thank you."

 

_Shite._

 

Never mind, then.

 

She'd have to find some other way to talk to him.

 

She debated.

 

It could wait until tomorrow, after she was well-rested. It was going to take all of her energy to go head to toe with him again, what with how they'd had sex and all… It had changed the game completely.

 

She'd never felt this way.

 

She'd never wanted to be around someone so much—never wanted to see their smile or hear their laugh. Never wondered how easy it would be to just… only be with that person, and none other. And quite frankly, it terrified her—and she knew it terrified him.

 

 _I need to talk to Poe_ , she thought.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben watched his grandfather's casket being lowered slowly into the ground. His mother's hand was on his shoulder, and his grandmother was touching him, as well, her fingers tangled lightly in his hair. The three of them looked on as Anakin Skywalker was buried. He felt dead inside, as dead as the man who had comforted him most.

 

 _"You never wanted me, anyway!"_ Ben screamed.

_"That's not true!"_ his father yelled back.

But he didn't believe him. He never did. He would always call back to that day when he'd witnessed Han's fight with Leia. His father would never be able to convince him that he was wanted by him. It hurt because his grandfather had been the only male presence in his life to look up to. Every boy wanted to be loved by their parents.

 

 _"I wish you would come home,"_ Leia sighed. _"Why is that so terrible? Is it because of your father? When are you two going to learn to forgive one another?"_

 

Ben spread Rey's legs open, settling between them. She was sprawled beneath him on his bed, hair feathered against the black sheets. There wasn't a stitch of clothing on her. Desire was burning in those hazel eyes. She reached for him.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, as we begin our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full, upright position. Please ensure your seatbelt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Thank you."

 

Ben jerked awake with a sharp inhale. Christ. It was an hour long flight. How the hell had he fallen asleep? Maybe he was more exhausted than he thought.

 

He thought of Rey—her kiss before she'd gone to her own seat. He knew what she'd been telling him. She'd forgiven him. What he didn't know if she was still open to the idea of… more. Something he had botched completely that night together. He still hadn't figured out a way to apologize. It was difficult when he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold onto her. She'd slip through his fingers like sand.

 

His dream frolicked merrily through his head, reminding him of Rey. What was it that had attracted him to her, outside of her looks? She was a hardy little thing, feisty. But she had that same look in her eyes… the deadness of someone who had given up, who knew they were destined to be alone because they had too much damage that had been done to them.

 

 _Neither_ , she had said when he'd asked what she would have preferred—his life or hers. He supposed she had a father, but she'd implied that having a loving father didn't make up for the fact that her own parents had abandoned her. Well, she hadn't implied it. She'd flat out said it. He knew that it wasn't the same, their lives. He had his family. But the burden of being unwanted…

 

God.

 

Well, she was smart, very smart. She would do what everyone else had done, in this case the right thing: she'd see the depths of his injuries and she'd leave him. And he wouldn't even be able to blame her. Why would he? He knew how he was. He was acutely familiar with it. They'd had very amazing sex, the best sex he'd ever had, even in a cramped vehicle. But that would be it for her. Wouldn't it?

 

He sighed and thunked his head back on his seat. The aircraft was lowering, the clouds disappearing as they fell beneath their blanket. Their destination sprawled out not far below, enticing and promising a race full of adventure. All of the cities did. What else did he have, but to throw his life into racing? It was the one thing he liked to do.

 

The plane bumped as the wheels hit the tarmac. They rolled forward before coming to the usual stop. Once the fasten seatbelt sign shut off, he unbuckled himself and debated. He could get off first with the rest of the first class persons. Or…

 

Or…

 

They filed past, one by one.

 

And then—

 

Ben grasped Rey's arm and pulled her beside him for the second time in an hour. She gasped with surprise but didn't immediately wrench away this time.

 

"What?" she asked.

 

He watched her swallow, watched her pulse flutter at her throat. She couldn't hide the bundle of nerves from her eyes.

 

"Why did you kiss me?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

 

"Because I forgive you," she said. "Do you want to pretend it didn't happen? Because…" She wet her lips and averted her eyes. "Because I can."

 

He should tell her that yes, that was what he wanted. Why? Because it was what was best for them. He knew himself. He knew it was only a matter of time before she truly _did_ grow to hate him. It was different for the time being—everything was new, shiny, a bit like acquiring a car he'd wanted.

 

But Rey wasn't a car, and neither was he.

 

"I don't want to pretend it didn't happen," he said. "But you should."

 

"Why?" she whispered.

 

"I'm—"

 

"No. Not now." She shook her head. "I—I can't hear it now. Later… sometime. This week. Let's—just think. Okay? Let's really think about what happened. And then… then we can reconvene on whether or not we want to pretend it didn't happen. Does that sound all right?"

 

He nodded because he didn't trust himself to speak.

 

Because he'd known from the moment he'd kissed her that he wanted her, that he wanted her more than anything he'd ever wanted. There was a void in his heart, and she…

 

But it wasn't to be.

 

So he nodded again, and she smiled weakly and slipped into the line when a spot presented itself. He watched her leave the plane. Then he closed his eyes and cursed softly beneath his breath.

 

She'd come to her senses.

 

And he would convince himself it didn't hurt. He was very good at that, forcing his feelings into something acceptable. Better than the yawning chasm of emptiness. Accept the emptiness, and it was much easier to bear.

 

But hope bloomed in his heart, and that was a dangerous thing.


	16. Stygian Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! When the inspiration strikes, I really have to go with it. Don't worry, Bond will be updated soon. Thanks for all the awesome reviews!

 

"Here's what you do," Sitrine said. "You give him your keycard. Your spare one. They always give you two, right?"

 

"I—sometimes. This time they did," Rey affirmed. "But—what—what are you—?"

 

"Oh, don't play the naïve little mechanic. You know _exactly_ what I'm telling you. Go up to him, slip that keycard into his pocket, and he'll get the message. If he doesn't, he's an idiot. Though I'm not entirely sold on the fact that he isn't…"

 

"Sitrine!" Rey scolded.

 

"Look, you told me everything! It sounds like he's got so much sand in his vagina that he's going to spit out a pearl at any given moment! And you _know_ what that means."

 

"Actually, I don't," she said. "And I'm not sure I want to."

 

"It _means_ ," Sitrine stressed, "that _you_ are going to have to make the first move. And since I know you're bullocks at that, I suggest the simple route: the keycard. Really, love, you won't be displeased by the result."

 

Rey bit her lip as she watched rain fall heavily outside her hotel window. Fortunately, the race was nearly a week away. But they'd had a lot of time to kill, by that being a few days, and they'd barely even exchanged a glance. Ben and herself, that was. She was mulling over their last conversation. Was he, too?

 

"What if he doesn't come?" Rey replied. "What if I give him the keycard, and then he never shows up?" She didn't know what she would do with herself were that to happen. She was attached to her ability to remain cool in any situation, but that had all fallen to the wayside once she'd had sex with Ben Solo.

 

"Then he's a bloody nincompoop, and you can tell him I said so," Sitrine scoffed. "Have you talked to Dameron yet?"

 

"No…" she mumbled reluctantly.

 

"Rey…"

 

"I know, you don't have to tell me!" she sighed. "I—I hate this. He keeps calling and calling… It's that situation, you know?"

 

"I don't. Enlighten me."

 

Frustration flared despite the fact that she knew he was irking her on purpose. "You put off answering the phone. They continue calling. You continue to ignore the calls because you know that once you finally take that phone call, you're going to get utter shite for it."

 

"How eloquently put."

 

"Oh, you're the last person to talk to me about eloquence," Rey snapped. "Do not forget the time I saw you pound down a six-pack of brewskis and belch so loudly you could hear it clearly across the bar."

 

"Look at you, adapting to the American terms so easily," Sitrine evaded.

 

"They don't exactly have many 'pubs' there," Rey huffed. "And anyway, you know precisely what I mean."

 

"Yeah, you're better off ignoring the lad forever. Might honestly be for the best. I'm sure he'll take the hint and move on at any time now." Sarcasm dripped from every word.

 

Rey rolled her eyes. "I've got to go."

 

"All right, love. Goodbye."

 

Rey signed off and held her cell to her chest. Thunder rumbled, and the dark clouds were illuminated by the lightning within. A second peal of thunder followed the first. She held up the cell and flicked through her call log.

 

Damn.

 

She was such a coward.

 

Wincing the whole while, she hit send over Poe's name. She knew he must have been in town already or would be soon. This was the next race—surely, he had his passport under control, and surely Ben had stopped harassing him on that front. Maybe Ben wouldn't bother him ever again because he'd decided Rey wasn't worth it.

 

_Stop thinking that way._

"Rey?" Poe said, picking up.

 

"Hiiii," Rey said slowly, wincing further. Damn, she didn't want to do this.

 

"You've been avoiding my calls for a couple of weeks. What the hell is going on?"

 

"I've just been busy," Rey said.

 

"Busy? _Busy_? Not that busy. Not so busy that you couldn't answer your phone."

 

"Look, Poe, I don't want to do this."

 

"Do what? Discuss what the problem is?" Poe's voice was decidedly icy, not that she could blame him.

 

She could practically hear Sitrine's voice in her ear, cheering her on. Right. She could do this.

 

"I've been thinking," she said. "And—"

 

"Not this again," Poe groaned. "Rey, I've told you before. I'm perfectly fine with openly da—"

 

"Well, I'm not!" she replied. "I mean—I can't do this to you. I can't lead you on."

 

"You're not leading me—"

 

"I _am_ ," she interrupted. "Poe, I have ten missed phone calls from you a day. You need someone who can—who can be on your level. Someone who wants the same things you want."

 

"What I _want_ is you," he said, and she could make out a thread of panic in his voice.

 

She scratched her eyebrow and closed her eyes with an inaudible sigh. Several moments passed in silence. She knew she had to say it, the words to let him go. It was… it was hard. She loved Poe like a friend, a dear friend, and—well, she had to rip the sticking plaster off.

 

"I don't want you," she said softly. "Not that way. Not—not ever. And I need you to accept this." Tears burned at her eyes, and she swallowed them back. "I'm sorry, Poe."

 

"So that's just it?" The pain she'd been dreading colored his words. "We're just—over?"

 

"We need some time apart," she said. "I want to be friends, but… I know it will take some time for you. I'm sorry I had to do this over the mobile. Goodbye, Poe." And like the cowardly coward she knew she was, she hung up, turned the device off, and tossed it onto her bed.

 

She'd kept it short. She should have spent time to listen to him, to walk him through the process, to ensure he knew it was really over while offering what comfort she could. But the truth of it was, she was a selfish bint. She didn't want to have that two hour phone call. She was too tired, too drained to deal with it.

 

The thunder rumbled louder, signaling the storm was growing closer.

 

Rey looked at the time. It was late, she needed to get to bed.

 

She went over to her things and pulled out her second keycard. She wet her lips, going over Sitrine's advice, wondering if she should really take it. He was right about one thing—Ben wasn't going to make the first move.

 

Damn, damn, damn.

 

* * *

 

 

Okay, she could do this. She could. He was right there. All she had to do was walk over there, and…

 

Oh, God, he was looking her way, hide!

 

Rey flung herself around a corner of the shop, where uncommon tools were stored away and there was paperwork stacked in boxes. Her heart was pounding like she'd run a marathon, and with it up in her throat, it was distinctly uncomfortable.

 

She peered slowly around the corner. Ben was talking to one of the mechanics. He'd done something with his hair today, product making it look absolutely magnificent, and she wanted to run her fingers through it all over again.

 

_Focus, Kenobi!_

Oh, shite, he was coming this way!

 

Rey squeezed her eyes shut and hid. Seconds passed. Bravery resurfaced from somewhere deep within, and she reached out as he walked past her, grasping his wrist. She dragged him inside of the small room. He stumbled, ready to fight until he saw Rey. Then his brows furrowed in confusion over those dark eyes of his.

 

"Hi," she said breathlessly. She pushed him into the wall and noticed he wasn't offering much resistance. She didn't want to get her dirty clothes on his fashionable ones, but she couldn't resist touching that hair. She used her grip in it to pull him close—close enough to kiss him, which she did firmly and heatedly.

 

If she was going to do this, there was no reason to behave coyly. It would go over his head, or he'd overthink it. She knew him already. Or, at least, some aspects of his behavior.

 

He was kissing her back, and she had a thrill in that, her tongue gliding over his. His hands flexed before settling cautiously over her hips. She took this moment to slide her keycard into his pocket. With one last kiss, she vanished back into the shop, unable to believe her gall, her daring.

 

_Sitrine better be right!_

* * *

 

 

Ben didn't even have time to ask what the hell that was about before she was gone again, and he stared bewilderedly after her. He pulled the slip of plastic out of his pocket and gazed at it in a mix of confusion, suspicion, and poorly-restrained hope, the latter of which was aggravating. He'd told himself hope was dangerous, but his foolish heart refused to listen. It always had before. Why was it rebelling now?

 

Maybe because when Rey wasn't covered in oil, she smelled like sunshine. Actual sunshine, as she spent so much time in it. It clung to her skin, to her pores, reminding him of the heat from outside, from the summer races.

 

 _I'm an idiot if I go there_ , he told himself. _A complete moron._

He didn't know what game she was playing. She wasn't the kind of person to play the ones that people usually tried to pull on him. Sure, they'd danced around one another, had word games, had… sex games… No. He couldn't list the sex as a game. Even he knew that that hadn't been one.

 

That left an entire whole wide world of questions.

 

 _I shouldn't go_ , he thought again. He should turn the card in to the front desk and pretend it hadn't happened. But weren't they still waiting to discuss that, to see whether or not they wanted to pretend it hadn't happened? Surely her behavior was indicating that she—

 

Damn. He was overthinking this, like he overthought everything. The problem was that it usually protected him. Rey, however, was a wild card. He never precisely knew where they stood, and guessing her motives had grown exhausting. She was honest to a fault, but… how did she not hate him despite what they'd done, what he'd told her, warned her about?

 

He remembered something his father had said long ago, and he hated that he even still had it stored in his memory.

 

_"Women always figure out the truth! Always!"_

Did that mean… she saw inside his decaying, stygian heart?

 

Ben shifted uncomfortably. He was starting to sound completely emo, even to himself, and it had to stop. He had enough to be King of Angst as it were. He didn't need to pile on even more. It was drivel, all of it. He was an awful person, case closed.

 

Yet somehow… Rey still wanted him, anyway. Right? Or why else would she have given him the card?

 

* * *

 

 

Later that evening, after dinner and before he had time to talk sense into himself, Ben was standing outside her room, number 202. He thought he might throw up and made up for it by wearing the deepest scowl he could. If this _was_ a game, he wasn't giving her ammunition to use against him, to see how bad his nerves were tangled.

 

He'd put her in her place, let her know he wasn't someone to be trifled with, and then… walk away. He would.

 

He pocketed the key to turn in later, in case this _was_ some sort of sick joke, and knocked his knuckles firmly against the door. It was the gentleman's code, and it had been enforced into him since he'd been a child.

 

And then he waited, his heart in his throat.


	17. My Face in Thine Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8D I know you guys hate my cliffhangers, but doesn't that just make the next chapter so much sweeter? Absence makes the heart grow fonder, after all. <3

 

Rey's head jerked up at the rapping of knuckles upon her door. She went quiet as Sitrine babbled on the mobile at her ear, her other hand slowly closing her laptop. Wetting her lips, she got up and wandered over to the peephole. Sure enough, the prince was standing right outside.

 

"Why does he use the name Solo, anyway?" Sitrine went on. "His father took on the Skywalker name when he married into the royal family."

 

"I've got to go," Rey whispered.

 

"What? Why?"

 

"Ben's here."

 

Sitrine cheered. "I told you!"

 

She hung up on him, knowing he'd understand, and tossed the cell on the bed. Then she opened the door, her mouth hanging open a little because she didn't know what to say. He'd come here, he'd really come.

 

Christ, it looked as though he really wished he hadn't.

 

_But—he's here…_

A grin spread across her mouth, and she grabbed him by the wrist and tugged him inside, shutting the door after him. She was very glad she'd tidied up the room a few hours ago. Her clothes had been strewn everywhere. That would have been embarrassing. She didn't want him to think her a slob.

 

"Hi," she said. "Are we still at war? Because I'd like to avoid frown wrinkles if I can."

 

Tension kept Ben's back straight, though that might have been his good breeding. She'd never seen him slouch, come to think of it. Suspicion lingered in his eyes, and they darted about. What was he looking for? A bucket to drop on his head or something similarly childish?

 

"Still? I never declared war." His gaze swung back to her. "What did you want?"

 

"Oh, I don't know." She folded her arms, hugging herself more than anything. "I guess to find out why you haven't said a word to me outside of our agreement to mull things order. I mean, I didn't expect to skip through a field of flowers together, but I would have thought…" She trailed off. "I would have thought you wouldn't have treated me like a complete stranger."

 

Her grin faded into a weak smile. "I don't regret what we did. Do you?" He'd said he didn't want to pretend it hadn't happened, but they weren't the same thing.

 

Ben's eyes narrowed, and his head tilted. "No? I was under the impression you did. You wanted to reconvene about the topic later. Is 'later' now?"

 

She bit her lip and stared at the floor, where the toes of her left foot were tapping. She didn't know what she was thinking. This was a recipe for heartache. He was standoffish already, and he didn't seem like he wanted to be there…

 

"All right. Fair enough." She'd wanted to reconvene, as it were, because he'd started to talk about how she _should_ want to pretend it hadn't occurred. Was he going to continue in that vein? The thought was painful, which was more than a little frightening. When had she begun to care so much?

 

When had she come to realize how alone she was? She'd spent the years growing used to it, becoming numb, and now…

 

"I thought… I thought maybe we could…" She couldn't finish her sentence. It would be exposing herself, and she was raw enough already. She sighed heavily and closed her eyes. "I wanted to discuss it, but you don't seem like you want to, so—I'm glad we could clear that up."

 

She walked to the door, figuring she should probably let him leave. No need to keep him here when it was the last place—

 

"…I am, too." Ben took a step to follow her, but Rey caught the shadow that crossed his face, a shadow she was very familiar with. Pain and loneliness. If he wanted to be here, why was he acting like he didn't…? Maybe she'd never understand him, but as of right now, he was sending mixed signals. Trying to figure it out was leading to a migraine.

 

"Ben, I don't want to do this." She said it in exasperation, shoving her fingers into her hair. "I don't know… exactly what I want, but I know that I don't want to not see you again." She forced herself to meet his eyes.  

 

Sod it.

 

She was diving in.

 

"I like you—as more than casual sex. But I meant what I said—I don't know what I want. I just… do we have to do this? Pretend like it didn't mean anything?" She placed her fists together, tapping her knuckles. She knew she was fidgeting, but it was either that or start pacing.

 

It was his turn to bite his lip. Something akin to terror flickered briefly in his eyes. "More than casual? Why?" He shook his head, and instead of getting closer to the door, he stepped back, deeper into her hotel room.

 

"Why?" she echoed. "Because there are some days that I would not be above premeditated murder, yet somehow, at the end of those days, of any day, the thought of you makes me smile." Oh, God. This was going to hurt so much if he rejected her. "I'm mystified. If you know the answer, please tell me." She drew another deep breath. "But I think it says something that I want to kill you one moment and want to kiss you the next. You drive me mad. But… you challenge me. I—I don't know."

 

She made herself stop. She was rambling.

 

She grabbed a hair tie and used it to pull her hair into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. She was wearing a thin tank top, a lounging bra, and pajama shorts, because she ran hot. Now she was cold, straight to her core. She'd never put herself on the line like this.

 

"You make me feel alive," she finished quietly, tracing her fingertips over the dresser. "That's all."

 

"Alive is a dangerous feeling," he murmured. "If you're not careful."

 

Ben was wondering how long it would be before the murder impulses edged out the kisses. She seemed like it had started, but he thought she'd hated him again just that morning, before she slipped him her hotel key. Well, she'd never hated him, according to her, but he wasn't sold on it.

 

"You drive me mad, too. And I want—" He bit back what he was going to say. Did it matter what he wanted, really? He only pretended to be the one calling the shots. "You really want something less casual? I can't imagine Dameron will be pleased."

 

"I told you. Dameron isn't my boyfriend, and besides, I broke things off with him." Hope flickered in Rey's heart, and she tried not to hate herself for it. Hope was such a dangerous thing. It made her grow quiet, and she leaned against the dresser, one hand playing with the Irish pennants on her shorts hem.

 

"It wasn't… completely casual to me… before," she said haltingly. "In the car. You weren't only a one night stand to me."

 

"You weren't to me, either," Ben replied. But they usually weren't. That always made it worse.

 

He looked around for someplace to sit. The hotel was nice enough that there were plenty of places to be comfortable but not really anywhere to be uncomfortable, and he didn't feel ready to make himself at home. So he spread his stance and continued standing awkwardly, studying one of the pieces of art on the wall.

 

"What do you want from this? You said… 'not casual.' What does that mean?" She'd ended it with Dameron? Did she want what she'd had with Dameron, the open-ended complication? He wasn't sure he could take it for long. But he couldn't imagine she'd want to date him. She was neither cruel nor stupid.

 

Rey's face was preparing to burst into flames. His questions were so direct!

 

"I said I didn't know what I want," she reminded him. It was easier to study what her fingers were doing than glance his way. "I mean… I do… sort of. I don't know, Ben. I haven't tried to think about it too much, to tell you the truth. I don't know what you want, and so it's difficult to think about what _I_ want."

 

"Does it matter what I want?" He couldn't keep from sounding honestly curious and confused, though he winced at himself as the words came out. It was too vulnerable. He hated it. But it worked. He thought. She seemed to be more open when he was. The gamble felt so risky, however…

 

He took a breath and firmly locked his eyes on the wall. "You shouldn't throw over Dameron for me. Even if you think he could find someone else, he won't. And he won't like that you're… with me. Whatever that means."

 

Rey wished she could read him better. It would make things so much more simpler. 'You shouldn't throw over Dameron for me' sounded like, 'I'm a bad choice. I like you, but you should probably stick with the person who won't be a complete and total jackass.' And more than that, 'I really don't want that outcome at all.'

 

It was the figuring out how to talk to him that caused the headaches.

 

Ignoring the remark about Poe, considering she'd already told him they were over, she cleared her throat. "It matters what you want because what I want outweighs what you want. Meaning… I—want more than you want. So you're the one who… has to… draw the line in the sand, so to speak…"

 

They were dancing, and Ben didn't know the steps. What did she mean, she wanted more than he wanted? He wasn't sure what he wanted, or what it was safe to want. How could she want more than that?

 

"What line would I draw?" He finally gave up standing there like an awkwardly placed piece of furniture and shuffled back a step to lean against the back of a chair. "What do you think you could do that I would object to so mightily?"

 

He considered her, comparing her to his previous 'girlfriends' mentally. Slender, muscular, with short nails scrubbed red to get the grease out from under them. Hair pulled back, no makeup, clothes that would look out of place in any magazine of value.

 

"You don't care about my money. Or my title. I'm not even certain what you want." Could she just be clearer?

 

"I don't want to share you."

 

Rey could have clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn't meant to say that at all. Damn it.

 

Well… whatever. It was true.

 

"I—I don't know if I want to date you, but I don't… I don't want to share you, and I know that's not what you want." She began to lace and unlace her fingers. "So I ask again: what do _you_ want?"

 

Ben's brows drew together. It didn't sound like she was mocking him, but she'd met him… She had to know he was unpleasant enough that the chances of having to share him were nil. Ever since he'd stopped looking for casual affairs when they'd turned out poorly one too many times.

 

She seemed honest, though. Maybe it was just that intelligence and common sense weren't necessarily linked.

 

"I don't know what I want," he said. "I've never gotten it before, and so I stopped trying to figure it out." He swallowed. "You… really?"

 

"…Yes." Rey made herself raise her head. "Oh, don't look at me like it's such a terrible idea. I know what I'm getting into. I've seen all your charming sides, remember?" Charming meaning not so charming.

 

She glanced away again, losing her nerve. "We… don't have to do what I want." He knew that. "But you asked me, and so I've told you."

"Yes, you do know what you're getting into," he allowed. "Hence my confusion." He took a moment to wonder if she hit her head while they were driving, but it was long enough ago that she'd be showing more symptoms than just extreme confusion. Against all the odds, she must want a… _relationship_ with him.

 

This was going to end so badly. But maybe this would be it. When it all went tits up, maybe he'd finally be able to shut up the voice in his head that wanted more than an occasional fuck with a complete stranger.

 

"All right. We'll do it your way."

 

Rey froze. Say what?!

 

She made herself relax and wrap her arms around her stomach. Then she looked him in the eye, pushing her fringe out of her own a moment later. He didn't look like he was joking.

 

"You're really okay with that? I'm only making sure because I don't want you to change your mind ten minutes from now."

 

"Oh, no. My lavish sex life. Whatever will I do without hordes of adoring women at my feet." Ben shot her an agitated expression. His mind hadn't changed once since the Porsche incident. He'd only been reacting to her and her inexplicable changes from seeming to understand that he was a bad bet to doubling down.

 

"If anything, I should be the one worried that you'll change _your_ mind," he went on. "You'd have more reason for it."

 

Rey studied him for a while before nodding. "All right. When do you have to go back?" She stepped close to him, her eyes lowered once more—close enough to be obviously in his space… close enough to rest her cheek against his chest…

 

Ben frowned even as his heart skipped a beat. Anyone else, and he wouldn't trust this, wouldn't trust her. But she'd had plenty of chances to screw him over even without fucking him. That meant the only one who was going to ruin this was him. He wasn't sure if the notion of that was freeing or terrifying.

 

"My mother asked me to attend a party at the local embassy. I already told her no. I don't have anywhere else to be."

 

"Okay…" Rey put her hands tentatively against his chest. She had to tilt her head back to see him, he was so tall. She could forget that he was handsome in an untraditional way, to keep him from her thoughts, but it was impossible like this. "What do you want to do?"

 

"I assume you gave me a key for a reason." Ben bowed his head enough to brush the tips of their noses together, nothing more. He suddenly felt inexplicably shy. He'd seen her nearly naked and fucked her in the front seat of a car. What was there to be shy about?

 

His hands hovered for a moment before settling on her hips, leaving the ball safely in her court. "I assume it wasn't only to declare a ceasefire."

 

Rey smiled at that, her lashes lowering. She rose onto her tiptoes so that their lips brushed. "Maybe not." She kissed him again, more firmly, her hands sliding up his chest. "Although I could argue that you know what they say about assuming."

 

He chuckled and took his cue from her, slipping his hands down to curve around her delightful rear and draw her in against him. "Yes, but between us, who would be surprised to find I'm an ass?"

 

He made a quick estimate of her reflexes, his muscle strength, and then bent at the knee to lift her. He gave her a quick, hard kiss, enough to hopefully distract her for a second.

 

Then he flung her onto the bed.


	18. Learning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What you've all been waiting for. Included is my favorite picture of Adam Driver, which shows off his glorious body. -heart- Mm, mm, mm.
> 
> I already had this written, thus the update before Bond. Sorry!

 

                   

 

                     

 

Rey flailed a little as she hit the bed. She honestly hadn't expected that, but with the wind knocked out of her, she had to laugh once it returned. She was still smiling as she looped an arm around his neck and kissed him.

 

"That's a fair point," she capitulated. She tilted her head back onto the bed, reaching up. Her hand curled into his shirt and pulled him down to her.

 

Ben liked it when she laughed. It suited her well. He smiled as he kissed her again, curling over her to trap her against the bed. She was warm against him, soft and comfortable, protected. As much fun as it was to have her in the car, he thought he preferred this.

 

And he should really stop thinking things like that. Like he'd get a chance to develop a preference.

 

He nibbled at her lips and tugged at her shirt. "I'd almost think you didn't expect me to come."

 

"I was mostly sure you would. Well, I hoped, anyway." Like this, her guards were down, but… she really enjoyed it when he smiled, for how rare it was.

 

She helped him get her shirt off, and her lounging bra. She would have been embarrassed if he hadn't already seen what she had to offer. He'd liked it well enough in the car, and she dragged her fingertips down her chest.

 

"See how little I'm wearing?" Rey always wore the same thing for pajamas, but he didn't have to know that quite yet.

 

"Forward-thinking. I like it." Ben trailed his fingertips after hers, his eyes locked on her face. "I hope you don't mind, but I think I'll be on top this time."

 

He sat up, straddling her hips and starting to undo the buttons on his shirt. His eyes didn't leave hers, other than to occasionally glance down at her body. She really was soft, but she was also all muscle, toned and solid. When he touched her, she didn't feel like she'd break. It made him more certain about things. At the very least, he wouldn't hurt her _that_ way.  

 

Once the buttons were opened, even before Ben shrugged the shirt off, Rey placed her hands to his abdomen. She hadn't gotten to see him in the car. His body was bloody beautiful, and the pad of her thumb traced merrily over where his happy trail started. She wanted to nibble it, the spot just beneath his navel.

 

She leaned up with another grin, suckling the patch of skin into her mouth. She kissed it after, glided her tongue up the ridges of his abdomen. She fell back after that, the smile unable to leave her mouth, her hands on his thighs. She was extraordinarily happy he was here, and she couldn't hide it. Not when it settled into her heart so strongly.

 

If Ben hadn't been on the edge of arousal before, he was now. He looked down at her, faintly flushed, and toyed with the button on his trousers. "Would you like to do the rest of the honors, then?" The light was low last time. She didn't get a good look, though he was certain she got a very good feel. And this was something he had no reservations about, it wasn't anything to plague him with worry.

 

He sank back onto his heels and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

 

If she hadn't liked his cock so much, Rey would have been snarky. But she did like it, and she chewed on her lips as she carefully slipped her hands up to the button. She took her time getting him open, her eyes occasionally flicking to his. She pulled him out, and then her attention went entirely to what was against her palm.

 

God. Somehow, she'd forgotten how big he was.

 

But she remembered with a flush that he fit, that it had been and felt amazing.

 

She meant to leave it at that, but she was leaning up, a hand curling around him as her tongue dragged over the head of him. She closed her eyes and pulled him into her mouth, her tongue curling against him, tasting the slightly salty precum beaded at the tip.

 

Ben sighed and sat back a little further, letting her do whatever she liked. Her lips barely stretched around him, white and thin, nearly trembling from how wide she had to force her jaw. But she looked like she wanted it, like she was enjoying having her mouth full of him.

 

He touched her cheek, his fingers trailing down her jaw gently, over her throat.

 

Fuck, he was in so much trouble.

 

"I hope you're not the kind of girl who thinks she can have a taste and then not return the favor," he murmured.

 

Rey dug her fingers into his thighs in answer, unwilling to part with his cock for the moment. She had a super power, and she put it to use, pushing him against the back of her throat and then grabbing his hip and forcing her face forward. It took him into her throat, and she choked a little, but not like she would have if she'd had a gag reflex.

 

She loved the way he was touching her gently, even in the face of dirty head.

 

She reached the hilt of him and held him there for a moment before slowly pulling back to the tip. She freed her mouth of him, arching a brow with a slightly smug smile. _Top that_ , she thought.

 

By the time she'd let go of his cock, Ben was having difficulty breathing evenly. He was pretty sure that was partly her plan.

 

He tugged at the hair tie she'd put in, finger-combing her hair across the bed. He leaned down to kiss her, and the head of his cock rested between her breasts. That was a sight he was going to have to memorize for later.

 

"Let me taste you?" he begged.

 

Rey's face was glowing now. It made her wet to hear that, and her throat tightened. She couldn't speak, nodding instead. It sounded like he really wanted to taste her, and who was she to stop him from such a task? She was curious as to whether or not he was good at it—she suspected he was spectacular.

 

She wrapped her hand around him—he was resting against her, she couldn't _not_.

 

"If you must." She half-whispered it, a giggle behind the words for the sarcasm. She propped herself up onto her elbows, but that blush was still stained across her cheekbones and the bridge of her nose.

 

"Oh, I think I must." He bent to kiss her forehead and then slipped away.

 

Ben finished shucking out of his pants, watching her for something. He wasn't sure what. Maybe a sign she was changing her mind? But it didn't come, and so he slid into bed again, twisting around so that his cock was in her reach as he nuzzled between her thighs.

 

He took his time, running his fingertips along her hipbones, up her muscled thighs before he hooked his finger in her panties and dragged them off her. He didn't get a chance to see her the last time, but he wasn't surprised that she was as lovely here as everywhere else.

 

"I bet you're delicious…" he murmured.

 

Rey rolled onto her side so they could see one another. This wasn't a position she'd done often, but she wasn't about to turn it down.

 

"I suppose the only way to find out is to taste me," she joked. The truth was that her thighs were trembling, and he could very well feel it.

 

To distract herself, she gripped his cock and pulled him back into her mouth. Her ears began to also burn when she heard herself give a groan. But… she liked the feel of him on her tongue. Was that so very wrong? She didn't think so. She didn't think he would, either. It was his cock, after all.

 

She took him to the hilt again, which was easier from this angle, and released him more slowly. She was savoring the moment, the softness of his cock, the slight saltiness. It felt really good in her throat, and she suckled at the tip to drive him mad. Yes, this was definitely where she wanted to be most in the entire world.

 

Ben rested his cheek against her leg for a second, not bothering to suppress a groan of his own. No one had ever swallowed him whole like that before. He was large enough that even the most daring of women tended to back down, and he'd never pushed. But Rey had just gone for it.

 

He kissed her cunt softly, and then again, parting her lips. He went at it like she was a shy girl he was coaxing into opening up for him, a hundred little licks and kisses before his tongue finally dipped into her. He sighed at the taste, his eyes going half-lidded in pleasure.

 

"I was right," he murmured against her skin. "You are delicious."

 

Rey felt like her face was never going to stop blushing. She only grew more damp as her arousal deepened, and she kept her thighs spread, trying to let her knees be light where they rested against his head. Even still, her hips rolled with a mind of their own. She wanted his tongue again—it had felt so marvelous spreading her open.

 

She took her time bobbing her head against him, not wanting to injure her throat. She'd never had anyone this big before, but she took him to the hilt each and every time. Her chokes were slight and filled the room. She couldn't believe this night was really happening. It still seemed like something out of a dream.

 

 _I'd better adjust quickly_ , she thought. It _was_ happening—it truly was.

 

Ben glanced down in time to catch that blush. His fingers played over her hip, and he tried not to chuckle in case she took it the wrong way. She might stop, but she _was_ adorable. He shifted a bit, letting his cock slide over her tongue as he worked deeper and deeper into her cunt.

 

He had no other plans for the evening, and he remembered very well what happened the last time she got very worked up. If he couldn't get that again, he'd be monumentally disappointed.

 

He was tall enough that he could shift around closer and really bury his face against her without pulling away, letting his tongue delve deep. God, he loved the taste of her, and it wasn't likely he'd ever forget it.

 

Rey tried to stay focused, she really did. But it was too much—she started wriggling as her pleasure mounted. She pulled off his cock with a soft cry as orgasm rolled over her, and she soaked his lower face and neck. There was again no time to be embarrassed. She felt too good, her body tingling all over, eager for more.

 

She returned to his cock, bobbing her head more forcefully now. Her throat had relaxed enough. She was determined to make him feel as wonderful as she did, flying high on pleasure and the thrill of what they were doing.

 

Ben's head fell back with a gasp. She'd drenched him, far more than he could possibly have swallowed, and now she was…

 

His hand reached down to cup over the back of her head. He was gentle enough as she bounced her throat over his cock as if he weren't barely fitting. It and her mouth were so damned tight, it was killing him. It made him lick at her cunt again, but his hips started to roll as hers had, attempting to meet her halfway in spite of all of his self-control.

 

"Rey—fuck—"

 

His hand flexed and then loosened again before he could risk hurting her. He couldn't bear it if he did.

 

Rey loved hearing her name on his lips like that. It made her feel so empowered. She rolled them over, until he was on his back, and she gripped his hand, pushing it against her head again. Like this, she could fit in the last inch of him she hadn't been able to achieve on her side. She wouldn't break—she liked it rough. Not always, but usually.

 

She was barely focused on her core anymore—her attention had narrowed down to the cock in her mouth.

 

Ben gripped her hair with uncertainty at first—let it grow more firm when she didn't fight it. He kept licking at her cunt, seeking out a fresh taste of her, though his attention slipped more and more to his cock and what she was doing with it.

 

He started working her head, tangling his fingers in her hair and pushing her down harder onto him. He could barely believe her throat was opening for him like it was, that she wasn't gagging in pain. It made him reckless—made him start to work her faster and harder. His breath came in sharp, panting groans against her thigh as arousal sizzled through him. It was a sweet burst of adrenaline, singing in his veins.

 

Rey's throat was definitely going to be aching tomorrow, but caught in the heat of the moment as she was, she didn't feel it. She shifted off him abruptly, only to move around, so she was between his legs. It was easier for him to grip her head this way.

 

She hooked a hand around his thigh, the other over his hip, her mouth swallowing him once more. She liked the noises he was making and was memorizing them in case she couldn't hear them again. But something deep within her knew he'd want to fuck her again—she knew she was unique. He wouldn't be able to resist, if nothing else. It was a dark thought, and one she enjoyed.

 

Ben released another loud groan, his fingers digging into her hair. His hips started rising up anew as he unconsciously started to take more control of her head.

 

"Rey, I'm—" He groaned harder and choked as her tongue did something spectacular on one of its passes by his shaft. He started driving into her harder and harder, unable to himself back. When he came, it was with a shout barely choked back, and then a soft sigh of her name as he fell back to the bed.

 

His eyes closed as he waited for the world to come back.

 

Rey pulled up, wiping a hand over her mouth. The taste of his seed lingered on her tongue. She crawled up his body enough to collapse on his chest. She kissed over his heart without thinking, and then buried her nose there. Her limbs were shaking like crazy. She really liked how rough he'd been, but she'd stay hidden there for now.

 

He curled an arm around her even before he'd really come back to himself enough to realize what he was doing. The truth of it was, he was a cuddler—not that he'd _ever_ admit it.

 

When his brain did unscramble, he started to gently stroke her back. "Are you all right? That must have been hard on your throat." He opened his eyes enough to look down at her. She'd seemed like she enjoyed it. He really hoped so. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had even foreplay this amazing. His veins were still sizzling from the aftermath of his orgasm.

 

"I'm fine," Rey replied. Her voice was a little raspy.

 

She pressed another kiss to his chest, then rested her chin against it to see him. The motion of his fingers was so, so soothing. "How are you? Sorry, I—in your mouth…" Her flush returned like it had never left.

 

Now Ben did chuckle. "I could say the same. But I enjoyed it." He could still taste her, rich and somewhat sweet. His hand slid up to rub the back of her neck. "You were… that was… I've never had anyone…" He closed his eyes, two hot points on his cheeks. "Not to brag, but I'm a bit large for most ladies."

 

Rey couldn't hide her smile. She wriggled up higher on his chest to drop a kiss to his mouth. He was huge—his entire body, not just his equipment. "You? Brag? Why, no, never." She dissolved into giggles and nuzzled her nose against his. "I really liked it… I liked how you handled me."

 

"You did?" His hand paused, and he peered down at her, half-expecting her to be teasing him. "I… I'm glad." He usually didn't get to be. He was big, and there was talk, and all of his relationships ended poorly… He might not be on good terms with his parents, but that wasn't something he wanted his mother to read in the tabloids.

 

He resumed rubbing her back and neck, allowing himself to relax.

 

"I did. And…" Rey cleared her bruised throat, lowering her cheek back to his chest. "Everyone always thinks I'll break. But I won't. I like it. Maybe too much, really. So… thank you for listening to me when I let you know it was all right…"

 

"Anyone who thinks you're delicate is a fool," he snorted. And they didn't deserve her if they did. She was tough as nails. Once he knew she liked it, he couldn't have held back if he wanted.

 

He wondered if Dameron treated her like she was made of glass. He expected so. Dameron was exactly that sort of man, a gentleman to his core. And that was why he'd lost her.

 

"I hope you don't like it hard too exclusively," he said. "I'll have to disappoint you if you do."

 

"No, I like when it's not rough, too." She rolled, taking him with her, returning them to their sides. She tangled her legs with his and drew idle designs on his chest with the tips of her fingers. "It was not rough in the car, and I liked that."

 

He was very cute—a big softie inside. She could tell now.

 

Ben tucked her against him so she couldn't see his expression and then smiled a little. "It was good. Cramped, though. Sports cars always are." Which he couldn't really argue with. It was a necessity of the design, and he wasn't going to fuck her in a minivan.

 

He trailed his fingers up her back to card through her hair, untangling the mess he'd made of it. He didn't even realize he was doing it.

 

"Well, you can always rectify that, you know." She tilted her head back, stroking his chest. "Like tonight, for instance." She didn't think she was going to stop smiling anytime soon. She kissed him, her eyes slipping closed. "Unless you're too old?"

 

Ben's eyebrows rose in surprise, and then he laughed outright against her lips. "I'm not _that_ much older than you." She made it sound like he was old enough to be her father.

 

He pushed her over, rolling so he could lean over her and kiss her properly. His kisses had been mostly so gentle so far, following her lead. But since she liked it rough before, he gave it to her now, pressing her down and taking ownership of her mouth.

 

Some small part of him locked away these memories for when she left him. Yet… for once, it was only that small part. Most of him was in the now, pressed against her tight and enjoying every moment of it. No one could take this from him, as they'd taken so many other things.

 

"Ten years—" Rey got it out between kisses because she had to prove her point. She hated that she even knew their age difference—she'd spent far too much time researching him when he was her enemy.

 

She groaned against his lips, her nails dragging against his back, not enough to hurt. She stayed pliant, meeting his kisses just as passionately but letting him have control. Holy shite, he could kiss. This was it. She was done for.

 

Ben laughed again and sank down against her enough that she could feel the weight of muscle against her. _And_ his cock, already firming up where it was pressed against her thigh. "Does that feel like an old man to you?" he quipped.

 

He rocked against her and nipped at her lips. He wondered if he could get away with leaving a hickey on her shoulder if he chose his spot carefully. Coveralls didn't hide the neck well, but maybe her shoulder…

 

Rey breathed in, tension zinging through her. "No, I suppose not." The sound of his laughter was intoxicating. She felt special just hearing it, and she knew that was more dangerous thinking.

 

She slotted against him enough that his cock was resting against her cunt. "I think I should be on top again, though." She didn't mean it in the slightest. "I think I'm superior in that area."

 

Ben dropped his head back and looked her over, taking in his fill, from the places her hair caught against her skin by sweat to the shadow of muscles when she moved. He was tempted to try and outlast her, but he genuinely wasn't certain which of them would win. She was in as good of shape as he was… and a decade younger.

 

His fingers danced up her hips and sides, avoiding any place he thought might be too ticklish. "Well, you certainly are superior in some demonstrable ways. But I can hardly allow you to declare such without even allowing me a chance."

 

His hands locked around her arms, and he pushed up, pinning her to the mattress as he grinded against her core, the head of his cock teasing her clit. "I should have a shot, don't you think?"

 

Rey exhaled more raggedly than she liked. If anyone else tried to pin her down, she'd deck them. But she strangely liked it this way. Trust? When her trust was hard-won? But what a person to put her trust in.

 

Her thighs spread to allow him to settle between them easier. She ground back against him, as much as she could. "Sure, if you ask me nicely," she breathed.

 

Ben pressed against her and held himself there, not moving. He dropped his head and nuzzled at her neck, pressed soft kisses up to her jaw and ear. He nibbled along the edge of the lobe oh-so-delicately, never giving her any real pleasure at all. Holding still like this when she was right there against him was driving him mad, but he knew it had to be just as bad for her.

 

"Pretty, pretty, please, may I?"

 

Rey giggled breathlessly. "You may." She wet her lips and gave into the urge to rock against him again. Then she rubbed her ear on her shoulder, because it tickled. "Who knew you could be so pleasant?" Fondness flooded her expression.

 

Ben almost flinched, but she meant it well. It wasn't a snipe, not a jab. They argued, that was all.

 

So he kissed the tip of her nose. "I'm sure I'll piss you off again eventually. Maybe some more stalking." He kissed her nose again, and then her lips as he finally guided the head of his cock into her. She was slick and more than ready for him, and he had a feeling that this conversation would go nowhere good if he didn't cut it off now. There would be plenty of time to dissect however this ended after it happened.

 

He kept kissing her until he was seated all the way inside, spreading her open deeper than he could have possibly in the cramped confines of the Porsche. He broke the kiss with a sigh. "You feel good."

 

Rey pressed her forehead to his while he was close, her breathing shaky. "You do, t-too." It was even better than before—she was so full in ways she'd never been before. He was right, it felt so good.

 

"And maybe you'll do those things, but I'm honestly looking forward to it," she whispered against his mouth. He'd kissed her nose; her heart was melting. Damn, she was going to wind up in a world of hurt, she was sure of it.

 

But it felt so nice right now. Why ruin it?

 

"Ben…" His name was a soft sigh of pleasure.

 

Ben kissed her again and moved slowly, enjoying the easy slide of their bodies. Since he'd already come, the gnawing, ceaseless need was easier to deal with. He kept kissing in her slow, easy movements as he rocked inside of her, dragging his cock over every nerve ending and tender place he knew was there.

 

He loved being able to reach this deep inside of her, loved feeling her under him and hearing her say his name like that. Even if she broke his heart later, this one might be worth it.

 

Rey wasn't sure if she'd ever had sex this tender before—she usually grew too impatient. But she'd never wanted to be that intimate with someone, either. This was the sort of sex that left you raw and open, and she'd always despised showcasing her vulnerability.

 

Her hand slid into his hair, but just as slowly, barely a pressure on her end. Her free hand slipped over the length of his back, tracing warm skin, toned muscle. She gasped his name again, and it was followed by a short moan. She'd had no idea it could be like this.

 

When she gasped, Ben's kisses moved from her mouth to her neck, leaving soft little red suckle marks that wouldn't last until morning. It saddened him a little, that there wouldn't be any sign of this, but he didn't want to presume too much. She was already giving him so much.

 

He liked the taste of her skin under his lips just as much as he liked the feel of her under his body. He murmured his appreciation against her neck, not caring too much if it carried. As much as he liked a good, hard and fast fuck, this was what he craved—this sort of connection that was so difficult to find.

 

He dragged it out for as long as he could, past the point where his muscles trembled and ached for the slow, constant workout. It might break him a little, to have this taste and then to lose it, he thought again, but he figured he was already broken. What was another crack?

 

Rey swallowed a cry, tilting her head back, her nails clawing into his back. She tried to hold everything inside of her, the arousal, the pleasure, all of it. But he was coating her in kisses, worshipping her body.

 

She couldn't quite prevent a second cry as orgasm crashed into her, dragging her under. It made her find his mouth again, kissing him firmly, quick heated things around her gasps. She wound her fingers in his hair and continued kissing him, more slowly this time as she came apart again. Her body trembled beneath his, and she rested her forehead against his again.

 

She wasn't sure she'd be able to look at him the same way after this. This was soul searing.

 

Feeling her clench around him made Ben's hips jerk instinctively. He was still in control enough that he only sped up a little. She had to be the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

 

He smiled a little and pushed up, shifting his angle so he was working her a bit differently, and so he could kiss her easily again. It was a little faster and a little harder, enough to make him groan. He was starting to have to fight to hold back. He'd thought he could hold on, but she was too much for him.

 

Rey brought her lips to his ear, touching the small of his back. "Come." It was the barest of whispers. She knew he was on edge, and she wanted to soak in the aftermath with him. "Please?" She nuzzled fresh kisses to his shoulder. "I need you…"

 

Ben shook his head and made a noise of refusal—but he was trembling, and her voice in his ear… He tried to hold out, out of sheer stubbornness, but she broke him down here just like everywhere else. He bit his tongue to hold back a sob as he came, burying his face against her so she couldn't see his expression. Even as far gone as she was, he was afraid of what she'd see.

 

He clung to her, trembling, his seed spilling hot and deep inside of her in what felt like a flood.

 

Rey clung back just as hard. She'd never let anyone come inside of her before, even with her birth control, and she'd let him do it twice. This time was different, however. It was much more intimate to feel his seed inside of her and the heat of it when she could enjoy it.

 

She didn't realize there were tears on her cheeks until she kissed him, nuzzling his head up so she could. By then it was too late to hide, so she kissed him again, slowly, lingering. Her fingers stroked down his back in soothing motions, but, truthfully, she just liked the feel of him.

 

Oh, God. She couldn't believe she'd cried. What if he hated it?

 

Ben kissed her back softly, hoping he had his expression under control. Then he noticed the tears on her cheeks. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you…?" He was already tensing to pull away, cursing himself for not having noticed. Maybe that was why she'd urged him to get it over with.

 

He rose up a little more, not quite pulling away from her yet, his brows pinched together with worry.

 

"What? No—!" She gripped onto him, pulling him back down. She wasn't ready to let go of him yet. "No, it wasn't that. I—… I've never—felt that good, felt this good." She decided to be brave and met his eyes. "Please don't get up yet?"

 

Ben looked her over and then lowered himself back down. He was a little more careful, cradling her rather than risk crushing her. She seemed like she was being honest, at least. "I haven't felt this good before, either." He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead against her shoulder. He should be more careful. Not only with his heart—he was a prince. He hadn't even asked her if she was on birth control, though it would be awkward to now. He trusted Rey wouldn't screw him over.

 

Rey's heart quavered, damned thing. She swallowed and drew her fingers through his hair, stroking over the nape of his neck. "I'm glad…" She whispered it into the quiet of the room. Then she pushed up, enough to nudge him onto his side somewhat. She shifted to where she could rest her chin atop his head. Her arms wound around him, and she brushed her lips over his hair. She wasn't sure what she was doing; acting instinctively, she supposed.

 

Ben kissed the base of her throat and settled against her, pressed close for warmth and comfort. He felt silly, needing that comfort just because they'd had a round of extraordinarily good sex. But he did, and even if she didn't realize what she was offering, he would take it.

 

Their legs tangled again. He draped his arm loosely around her. The only tension was in his fingers, where he'd pushed them between her and the mattress, curled as if he'd grab her if she tried to move.

 

Rey relaxed when he grew comfortable. She resumed stroking his back, alternating it with his hair. He curled up against her, like he was hiding from the world. Was it wrong of her to enjoy it so much? But comforting him was also comforting her.

 

Her eyes drooped heavily, her heartbeat slowing. She would talk, but something told her not to, that he enjoyed the quiet. So she made her words actions, giving his hair sweet kisses, humming softly. She slipped into sleep shortly after he did, and their breathing stayed even and sweet between them.


	19. Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our babies are making progress.
> 
> One thing I would like to note for these lyrics is that they're from a worried Ben's point of view. It's not a foreshadowing at all. Okay, read on!

 

_I'm making my peace and making it with distance,_

_But maybe that's a big mistake, you know I'm thinking of you,_

_I miss you,_

_You'll change your mind come Monday and turn your back on me,_

_You'll take your steps away with hesitance,_

_You'll take your steps away from me_

-Cautioners, Jimmy Eat World

 

 

Rey woke up slowly, in a way she never had. Her entire body was comfortable, and she was warm, but this was… different. This was the feeling of not being alone—this was the feeling of belonging. This was the afterglow of intimacy, intimacy with someone she thought maybe she was falling for.

 

The thought dropped ice down her spine, and she opened her eyes. They were heavy from getting proper sleep. She blinked gunk out of them, rubbing them. Across from her, Ben slept on, his lashes feathered against his cheeks, his brows lightly furrowed. He was dreaming and looked so peaceful, as peaceful as she had been.

 

She wasn't sure what the protocol was for this. They'd stumbled through what she wanted… They knew she didn't want to share him, and he hadn't exactly told her no. It seemed as though, in fact, that he wanted her around. The rest, she couldn't figure out. He was too unreadable. But maybe that was enough for now?

 

Rey soothed a tendril of hair from his forehead. She didn't want to just _leave_. Besides, it was her room.

 

The shop called to her, and she knew she had to go to work. Damn.

 

She turned the alarm off on her phone before the James Bond theme started, always loud enough to wake the dead. She saw the time and groaned quietly. Bloody hell, it was early. A quick glance out the window revealed the sun hadn't even risen yet.

 

Lovely.

 

Ben stirred, and she hastily set her phone on the nightstand and rolled back over to face him. He gazed blearily at her, perhaps uncertain that she was real. She touched his cheek with only her fingertips, then soothed the pad of her thumb over the arch of it. His eyes shuttered closed again. She smothered a smile. She wasn't accustomed to her heart skipping so much and found she didn't want to frighten him off.

 

How odd.

 

"I have to go to work," she said. "I'll see you at the shop later?"

 

He mumbled something indecipherable.

 

She kissed his forehead and climbed out of bed to get ready.

 

* * *

 

 

When Rey emerged from the shower, a towel wrapped around her with another twisted around her damp hair, she found Ben gone. For a moment, her heart seized, so immensely painful that her eyes began to burn. She hastily kept the tears back. This was nothing. She should have expected this.

 

Once she was dressed and on her way out the door, she checked her phone.

 

_Solo: I'll see you later._

And what the hell did _that_ mean?

 

 _Sitrine: Call me. I want to know_ every _detail. I'm living vicariously through you._

Rey rolled her eyes and shot off a quick text in response to that.

 

_Me: You're a whore. You're not living vicariously through anyone, and if you are, it should be the Pope._

_Sitrine: What on earth is that supposed to mean?_

_Me: Why are you awake?_

_Sitrine: Why are you?_

_Me: I have to go to work._

She didn't have time for this. She turned her phone on silent and pocketed it in her purse. She took one last glance at the mirror, running her fingers through her hair, and then walked out the door, dread following her with every footstep.

 

* * *

 

 

The dread was short-lived. Ben was at the shop already, drinking what must have been a strong cup of coffee, given how exhausted he looked. For a moment, Rey feared he would ignore her, but he didn't. His eyes drifted over to her, and something like a smile touched the corner of his mouth. Warmth and delight blossomed through her—it made her happy enough to not think about it too closely.

 

Which didn't last long.

 

She found her coveralls and pocketed her purse away. The finest tremor was going through her hands. Anxiety roiled around her stomach. Feck, this was entirely new to her, entirely new to the both of them. What if it all went to hell in a handbasket because she'd royally fucked up? What if he was the one to (no pun intended) royally fuck up?

 

Christ, she'd dated plenty, and she'd never cared this much.

 

The rest of the crew was mostly there. As much as Rey wanted to go over and talk to Ben, who was conversing with what might have been a sponsor, she didn't. It wasn't the company he was keeping—it was the fact that the entire shop didn't need to know that anything had transpired between them. How would they treat her if they knew she'd slept with the boss? Likely most wouldn't be surprised, what with women sleeping their way to the top all the time, God-awful as that was, but that wasn't the case here.

 

They didn't even know what they _were_ , so why tell the entire world until they knew? Why make things difficult now when it could be held off until later?

 

Satisfied with this line of thought, Rey popped the hood on a backup car. It was Friday, meaning the practice races began today. Rey didn't know the schedule for this one, she'd been too preoccupied to look at the times. Eleven was generally the earliest, one the latest. It usually averaged around noon.

 

She couldn't think with Ben there, come to find out. She was too aware of his presence, and she could feel his eyes flicking in her direction on and off. It drew her spine straight, made the knot of anxiety coil even more. God, she hoped she hadn't made a terrible decision the night before.

 

* * *

 

 

"Coffee?"

 

Rey nearly jumped out of her skin. She was covered in sweat from where the sun had baked down on her the whole day, and, of course, oil from her work. She was looking forward to a hot shower since the practice races had ended and she had nothing to do until the morrow.

 

She turned and found the object of her thoughts standing before her, a cup of java extended.

 

"Ben," she breathed.

 

"Hey, where's my cup of coffee?" Richard griped across the shop.

 

They both ignored him.

 

Ben's hair was also covered in perspiration, damp against his head from the helmet he'd donned for hours. Despite the dark circles under his eyes, they were alight with adrenaline. He hadn't come down from the high of racing yet.

 

"The next few days, we'll be busy," Ben murmured as Rey took the proffered cup.  

 

She nodded. "But we need to talk."

 

"We can," he said. "Though I think we should wait until after the weekend, when… we have clear heads."

 

Again, what did that _mean_?

 

"So we have a few days to think about it?" she ventured.

 

"So _you_ have a few days to think about it," he corrected.

 

She tilted her head, anxiety now a hard lump in her throat.

 

"Once we leave… will you sit beside me on the flight to Britain?" He fiddled with the edge of his own coffee, thumb rounding the ring of the lid. He stared at it like it was absolutely fascinating. "I'll understand if you don't want to, however."

 

"No, I—I want to," she said.

 

"Really?" The look he ventured her way was cautious. "Because you don't have to feel obligated, and—"

 

"I don't." She grasped his free hand. They both stared down at where they were linked. "You…" She wet her lips. "After this weekend, after I've… thought, you want to continue this?"

 

"Do you?" he countered softly, not taking his hand back.

 

She continued to hold it hostage. It was somehow reaffirming. "Yes."

 

"That may change." She opened her mouth in exasperation, but he continued, "I need to get some rest, or I won't be able to meet the qualifiers tomorrow." He pulled free of her grasp. "Really… think on it. Please."

 

She wasn't sure she'd ever heard him use that word, "please."

 

"All right," she whispered. "Do you want a kiss for good luck?"

 

Damn her mouth, running off without her permission.

 

"I mean, I'm about to leave myself," she said, plunging ahead. "I need to grab my purse…" The room would be empty, and the kiss could be brief. She didn't think she needed to imply anymore.

 

He considered her for a long moment, in which she waited in terror for his response, though she managed to keep it off her face. Or so she thought, at any rate.

 

Then he gave the subtlest tilt of his head to the storage room.

 

* * *

 

 

"Just let me get out of these coveralls, and I'll—"

 

Ben pulled her into a kiss, and Rey forgot what she was going to say entirely.

 

It flashed to heated like a spark to dry grass. One moment his lips were grazing hers, the next her arms were wound around his neck, and he had her pressed against the wall. Their tongues tangled fervently, and he slid a hand down her thigh, hooking it around his hip. She gasped against his mouth, feeling his erection.

 

"I'll ruin your clothes," she protested between kisses.

 

"I don't care about that," he replied, and then she wasn't thinking at all.

 

All too quickly, he had to draw away. Both their chests rose and fell heavily, both of their lips were bruised. Ben licked his own, his lashes falling half shut, his irises darker than ever. Rey swallowed and stayed pressed to the wall, her heart pounding so fast that all she could hear was her blood rushing in her ears.

 

"Until Monday," he said.

 

"Until Monday," she breathed.

 

She stayed in the room long after he was gone, going over that moment again and again. Somehow in the last six hours, she'd forgotten how good he tasted, how his lips felt on her own. She touched them, slumping down the wall until she was sitting against it.

 

Monday, she thought.

 

Monday.


	20. Breathe, Kenobi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly longer chapter for ya'll, 'cause I love ya.

 

Rey struggled to find her keycard in her purse while her father caught her up on all the goings-on of his life. They used to speak every day, but that had changed with her job. Now it was once a week, whenever Rey found the time. Her father was busy, too, but he insisted on being available no matter what.

 

Ben Kenobi wrapped up his week with a, "And you're visiting me once you're in Britain?"

 

She rolled her eyes a little, cradling her mobile on her shoulder. It seemed like a permanent position lately. She'd never been more popular on phone calls until she'd started traveling around the world. "Yes." _For the thousandth time, yes._ But she wouldn't be rude to her father, not when he'd done so much for her.

 

"You leave after tonight, yes?"

 

"Yes," she assured him.

 

"How long can you stay?"

 

"Oh, a day or two. Then I have to get back to the rest of the crew." And Ben. The thought made her stomach flutter. Dratted Prince of Alderaan.

 

"I suppose that will have to do," her father sighed dramatically, and it made Rey smile, just as it was intended.

 

She wished her father would find someone. After Satine had died… and the baby with her during child birth… He'd been alone for so long. Then, after many years, he'd decided to adopt. What he'd found in Rey, she didn't know. He'd stopped in front of her at the orphanage, stared into her eyes, and then held out his hand.

 

Rey had never mentioned it, but she thought it was because he saw his own loneliness reflected in her eyes, two damaged souls. He wanted a child, and she wanted a parent.

 

For the first time, Rey felt incredibly guilty for not taking the path he'd wanted for her.

 

"Dad?" she whispered.

 

"Yes?"

 

"I love you. Very much."

 

The other end of the line was quiet for a moment. Then her father spoke, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I love you, too. I'll see you soon."

 

Her phone beeped, and she pulled it away to see Sitrine was calling.

 

"Oh, I've got to go. I'll see you soon, bye." She switched the line over to Sitrine. "Hey—listen, you've just caught me getting back to the hotel—"

 

She finally freed her keycard and shoved it into the slot on the door. The light went green, and she pushed into her room, only to freeze, her purse dropping to the floor and spilling some of its contents. Her eyes grew very wide at what awaited her.

 

"I've got to go," she said, stunned.

 

"What?" Sitrine's tone turned suspicious. "What's going on?"

 

Rey signed off.

 

She stared around at the team of what appeared to be the stylists waiting for her.

 

"I think you have the wrong room," she said numbly.

 

"Rey Kenobi?" said a woman wielding an artillery of very girly things. Things used for big moments—weddings, dances, parties… What on earth…?

 

"Yes?" Rey answered weakly.

 

"Then we have the right room," said one of the other girls. "Besides, how would we have gotten in here without this keycard?" She held up the aforementioned item.

 

 _I am going to kill Ben,_ she thought. For what, she didn't yet know. But it would come to her; it was only a matter of time.

 

"We've been assigned to prepare you for the victory party," the last girl of the trio informed her.

 

"I—what?" Rey said numbly.

 

They gestured to the bed, where a large box with a bow on it awaited her. Confused, biting her lip, Rey stepped over to it, tossing her phone beside it. She unraveled the bow slowly, wondering what could possibly be inside. When she saw what was, she immediately shook her head in denial.

 

"No," she said.

 

"Yes," they said.

 

"I can't possibly wear this," she said. "I'll ruin it."

 

"It's Valentino," the first girl said. Her hair was pulled back smartly into a clip at the back of her head. She began unfolding more accessory bags. Hair dryer, curling iron, and there was already nail polish and buffers, and—

 

Rey's head wouldn't stop spinning.

 

She gingerly lifted the dress from its box. It was a strapless red gown, delicate lace decorated across the fabric. A quick glance revealed that it would likely stop just short at the tops of her knees. It was beautiful, so beautiful.

 

"I don't understand," she said.

 

"The victory party," someone repeated. Rey couldn't rip her eyes away from the gift. "Now let's go—you need a shower, you are absolutely filthy."

 

"And what if I don't want to go to the victory party?" Rey said faintly.

 

"Then we will leave," Smart Style replied. "We were given strict directions. We are to insist you go, but if you absolutely refuse, then we will leave you alone. We will pack up, and you can pretend this never happened."

 

"Would I get to keep the dress?" Rey wondered curiously.

 

The other woman paused—looked at the others. They all shrugged.

 

Well, that was answer enough.

 

The second girl, a petite blonde, grabbed her by the wrist and began to pull her to the bathroom. "Come, come. We don't have a lot of time. You are late."

 

" _I'm_ late?" Rey huffed, offended. "I was working—"

 

"Into the shower," the third girl cut her off. She was wearing hoop earrings. "Let's go, chop chop."

 

"This is madness," Rey muttered under her breath.

 

"What?" Blonde asked sharply.

 

"Nothing."

 

* * *

 

 

Rey wondered if this was how Katniss had felt during the Hunger Games while in preparation for the big "event." Hair she hadn't even known existed on her body was gone, her eyebrows and unmentionable places were waxed, along with her legs and under her arms. After that was an exfoliating bath, and her hair was teased every way to Sunday.

 

By the time it was all over, she actually hurt in places. She'd tried to point out that painting her nails was a worthless endeavor, but no one had listened to her. No, after quarreling for half an hour while they did her hair, they'd decided on a simple French manicure. They'd wanted to use fake nails, yet Rey had insisted on using her own. All it required was a gel polish and the white tips. This way, when they chipped away while she worked, she wouldn't be breaking off a long nail against an engine piece. She had enough nicks handling equipment _without_ being girly.

 

Rey was shoved into a chair while this was being done, Blonde doing the finishing touches on her hair, Smart Style applying makeup artfully. None of them had offered their names, and Rey couldn't be bothered to learn them.

 

Honestly, she didn't want to go to this party, especially not _now_. She wasn't used to being pampered—she didn't _want_ to be pampered. But then she thought about how Ben had gone through all of this trouble to dress her up, and hesitation filled her. This was thousands of dollars of a primping.

 

On the one hand, it was… sweet. Maybe. She wasn't sure she could apply that term to him quite yet. On the other hand… Did he want her to go, but he was embarrassed to be seen with her in the dress she'd used twice now at these ridiculous parties? The moment she had the thought, she knew that it wasn't right.

 

He wanted her there, and he wanted her to have a good time.

 

And… if she was being completely honest with herself…

 

She felt a bit like a princess.

 

The moment her stylists were gone, she found her mobile.

 

"Sitrine? You'll never guess what just happened!"

 

* * *

 

 

_Finn: Cassian is supposed to be there! Please get an autograph!_

_Sitrine: I want every detail. Every single, sordid detail. Leave nothing out, or you'll live to regret it. And you know I keep my promises, darling. Ta. ;D_

_Solo: Why are you always late?_

Rey growled softly beneath her breath and stuffed her mobile into her clutch. Then nerves clenched afresh at her stomach. Ben would always be Ben, and she was meeting him here. Although she did need to change his name in her phone… Solo now seemed so impersonal. And after what they'd shared, well—

 

The car that had taken her to the party pulled off the curb, and Rey watched it go longingly. Then she looked up at the building that was awaiting her. Oh, God. Could she do this? Of course, she could. She'd done it before. Just not… this glamorous.

 

_Breathe, Kenobi._

 

She climbed the steps to the front doors, nodding to the security guard. She wondered why she didn't need to say her name, and then thought about what she was wearing—thousands of dollars. Maybe that said enough.

 

Her four inch high heels clicked on the marble floor, and she found herself standing at the top of a staircase. It was wide and curved open at the bottom, with a beautiful mahogany banister. The buzz of people talking and glasses clinking greeted her ears. A song she didn't recognize was playing, but that wasn't surprising. It was something classical.

 

Exhaling, she briefly touched her hair. It had been teased and tugged and doused with product until curls framed her face and shoulders. A few gentlemen glanced her way and smiled, and she grew inexplicably shy. Damn it. She wasn't so sure she liked this.

 

And at that moment, like a page out of one of Sitrine's beloved books, Ben looked up at her from across the room.

 

She smiled hesitantly.

 

His eyes took her in from head to toe, something like awe on his face.

 

Rey made her way down the stairs, fingertips gliding over the polished banister. She walked carefully—she was used to heels, but not high stilettoes like these. She didn't want to trip and embarrass herself. She was self-conscious enough as it were.

 

Ben started to make his way over to her, handing off his glass of champagne. He had won the race, Poe a close second behind, and admirers had flocked around him. They made disappointed faces as he left them, most of them pretty girls. Prettier than Rey, she thought. Though… Though he didn't seem to think so.

 

Before he reached her, someone stepped into her path, and she nearly bumped into them. She let out a soft, "Oh, excuse me," and—halted.

 

"Poe," she said.

 

"I need to talk to you," he said, finding her hand and gripping onto it so tightly it almost hurt.

 

"Not now," she hissed.

 

"No, right now," he insisted.

 

She glanced over his shoulder, where Ben was striding murderously in their direction.

 

"Poe, not right now," she repeated. "This isn't the place."

 

"You won't take my phone calls—"

 

"Because it's clear we need space—"

 

"No, _you_ need space. I don't need any space at all. I know what I want, and what I want is you." Poe was handsome, his curls attended to, and he was rocking a tight fitting suit. A year ago, a summer ago, she would have fallen into his arms and kissed him, because he was a breath of fresh air. But now that air had grown stagnant, and she couldn't lead him on anymore.

 

She'd thought she'd made that clear, but she supposed it hadn't been enough.

 

"Poe, in about two seconds Ben is going to get here, and—"

 

" _Ben_?" Poe drew back. "Now you're on a first name basis with him?"

 

"Poe—" she sighed in exasperation.

 

"This is a terrible idea," he whispered heatedly, his eyes flicking around. He didn't want to cause a scene. She could relate to that all too well. "It's a mistake. You have no idea what you're getting into. You don't know him—"

 

Fed up with the conversation, Rey snatched her hand back. "I can't. All right? I can't, Poe. Please—stop."

 

"What changed?" His eyes searched hers pleadingly. "Just tell me what changed. We were fine, we—"

 

"We haven't been fine in ages!" Rey could see that Ben was almost on top of them. "You know that. Why else would I have refused to get into a relationship with you?"

 

"Because you're scared!" Poe retorted. "You're afraid of love, you're—"

 

Anger filled her—no, fury. White hot fury. "I'm not _afraid_ of love. I just don't love _you_!"

 

She might as well have stabbed him.

 

"Poe—"

 

"No." Blinking hard, like he was rethinking everything, Poe stepped away from her.

 

"Poe—" she pleaded. "Don't—"

 

He held up a hand and then walked away, shaking his head. Hurt had lined his features, and she felt awful for that. It left a gnawing pit in her stomach. This was why she had been a coward and done it over the phone. She hadn't wanted to hurt him, she hadn't wanted to do this, she hadn't… she hadn't…

 

A piano version of _Fly Me to the Moon_ began, a somber one. _How fitting_ , she thought.

 

Ben reached her side. He shot a look after Poe and then assessed her expression. She swallowed back her grief—the grief of knowing her friendship with her best friend was ruined. She didn't want Ben to misinterpret it.

 

"So is that over?" Ben asked.

 

"I told you it was," she whispered.

 

The prince glanced around, his jaw set. Was he thinking of what to say? "Are you… all right?"

 

Rey exhaled and turned to him. "I am." She touched his arm and smiled. "I'm only—I'm sorry that he's hurting, but I'm glad it's over."

 

"It's not over," Ben chuckled, bitterness tainting it.

 

Her brows drew together.

 

"He's in love with you," Ben continued. "This won't be the last you see of him."

 

Rey didn't know what to say.

 

"You look beautiful." Consternation fading, Ben offered her his arm. "I knew you would."

 

She couldn't keep back a blush. He'd said it so casually, so effortlessly, when she knew it was anything but. It made her smile again, made the pain fade. "You shouldn't have done this."

 

"Why?" he asked softly as she took his arm.

 

"It's too much," Rey replied.

 

He shook his head, chuckling beneath his breath, his eyes lowering.

 

"Ben?" she asked, tilting her head.

 

He kissed her forehead. "You still don't get it," he whispered.

 

"Get what?" she whispered back.

 

"Nothing is too much where it concerns you." While she stared up at him, stunned, he used her grip on his arm to tug her back onto the floor. He had his glasses on, and his suit was its usual black on black. His cologne tantalized her senses, made her remember the times they'd been together.

 

"Ben—"

 

"I want you to meet some people."

 

"Meet some people?"

 

And then she saw they were headed straight toward Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso.


	21. Falaffle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this prompt story thing up called Whispered Thrills and Lightning Strikes. It's from a book of prompts I own, you know, to stimulate the brain and whatnot. I decided to gear them around Reylo. So ya'll can check that out, if you want!
> 
> The title is a reference to How I Met Your Mother.

Rey knew that Finn would be literally jizzing his pants if he was standing before his hero right now. Rey herself was rather brimming with excitement. It wasn't every day that one was able to stand in front of Cassian Andor and/or his beautiful wife, Jyn Erso. The latter had kept her last name for modeling purposes and her own sense of identity. That was what she'd told the news at the time, at any rate.

 

"Solo," Andor greeted, and the two men exchanged a handshake like they were the best of bros. It made Rey raise an eyebrow, considering Andor was old enough to be Ben's father.

 

"And who is this?" Jyn asked with the smile that had melted the world.

 

"She's—" Ben began.

 

Rey took a step forward. "My name is Rey Kenobi."

 

"Hello, Rey," Andor said with a nod. "It's my understanding that you're on Solo's pit crew?"

 

"Ah—yes," Rey said with pleasant surprise. She looked up at Ben. "You've been talking about me?"

 

The prince's eyes slid to the side.

 

Jyn laughed with some warmth. "He wants to appear icy, but really—"

 

" _Anyway_ ," Ben said, putting heavy stress on the word. "I thought Rey might like to meet you." He finally looked at her. "But _don't_ ask for an autograph."

 

"Oh, that's too bad," Rey replied. "One of my best friends thinks of you as his hero."

 

Andor chuckled. He gestured, and Jyn pulled a pen from her clutch. They must have been used to this.

 

"Do you have anything to sign?" the man questioned.

 

"Oh, um…" Rey wasn't sure. She hadn't been prepared. She opened her clutch, searching for something, finding the back of her phone case. It would have to do, and so she presented it to him. Maybe he wouldn't laugh too hard.

 

He didn't laugh at all. There was a smile that touched the corner of his mouth, but he didn't laugh.

 

Happiness flooded Rey as the moment really hit her. He wasn't only Finn's hero. She was proud that she could stand here and not lose her mind over a celebrity. It was even harder now that this was happening, but she managed.

 

When Andor finished with his signature, he handed the pen and mobile not to Rey, but to his wife. Jyn gave a similar smile her husband had and added her name to the phone, before returning the device to Rey. Rey took it with wordless gratitude, placing it more carefully in her clutch than she might have before.

 

On second thought, she wasn't so sure she was going to give this to Finn. She wanted to keep it for herself, selfish as that was. It was a way to remember this night, and no matter what happened in the future, she never wanted to forget it.

 

"So, um…" Rey cleared her throat and tried not to self-consciously touch her hair. "How do you two know Ben?"

 

Andor laughed around taking a sip of his champagne. Jyn smiled with him, like they were sharing some sort of secret joke as they exchanged a subtle glance.

 

Once the retired driver had swallowed his drink, he gave a shrug of his shoulders. "My family used to be employed by his. I grew up this way, and Leia was very fond of me when we were young adults because I would always sneak her out of the castle. I was the butler, you see."

 

"A butler? But you would have been so young," Rey observed, tilting her head.

 

"I rose to butler very quickly because it was my family, and so there was no real hierarchy."

 

 _It's like watching an episode of Downton Abbey,_ Rey thought, fascinated.

 

"Ah, so, I have stayed friends with the royal family since I left," Andor finished. "In fact, it was Ben's father who helped give me a start in the racing world." He tipped his glass to Ben as if to say, "Cheers, mate."

 

Ben shifted uncomfortably, and Rey wondered at that. Why had the mention of his father made the air so charged with tension?

 

"Well, I can guess the rest," Rey said, smiling back at them. Jyn had married Cassian shortly into her modeling career, and they'd been together ever since. She'd have known Ben by association.

 

"So what do you think of working with Ben?" Jyn asked, her eyes full of deviousness as she glanced Ben's way. Then she turned all of her attention to Rey. "I hear he's a nightmare."

 

"He is," Rey said, and they shared a laugh. "But, you know, I think there's a soft side to him." Rey grinned, attempting to rile him up, the way they used to banter. But Ben only mumbled into his champagne as he took a drink.

 

"He's being sweet tonight," Jyn agreed. "That must mean he really likes you."

 

Rey froze, her face turning fifty shades of embarrassment.

 

"Okay, Jyn, Cassian, thanks for the stroll down flashback lane. We won't keep you," Ben said, the tips of his ears similarly burning. He put his hand around Rey's shoulder and hand and guided her away. "Don't make friends with them."

 

"What?" Rey asked with a startled laugh. "You can't be serious."

 

He grumbled.

 

"Oh, _I_ see," she said.

 

"See what?" He glared at her.

 

"They're your close friends," Rey replied, knowing that they were likely his only friends. But it would be impolite to say it. "Of course, they'd reveal your secrets to me. Best to keep me far away from them, then. Am I right?"

 

Ben mumbled.

 

"What's that?" Rey teased. "I can't hear you."

 

"I _said_ you don't know what you're talking about," Ben said stiffly. "Do you want to get a drink at the bar?"

 

"Why, so we can wind up on an old country road like the last time?" she asked, genuinely curious.

 

"You've very witty tonight," Ben mused. "I don't think that I like it."

 

"Well, it's a good thing, then, that it doesn't matter what you think," Rey replied. She was having trouble maintaining a straight face. "It's important that I like it, not you. I'm practically in love with myself, you see."

 

" _Woman_ ," Ben seethed through his teeth.

 

"So now you're sexist?"

 

* * *

 

 

Ben did the only thing he could think of to shut her up.

 

He cupped a hand around the back of her neck and tugged her into a kiss.

 

As soon as he'd done it, he regretted it, but not for the obvious reasons. No, it was because he'd told her he was waiting for her decision on Monday. Damn, now he'd fucked _that_ up. Well, there was nothing to be done with it. Spilled milk and all that.

 

When he pulled away, her eyes were wide. He couldn't tell with what. She was too good at being guarded. That made for two of them, the only exception being when he lost his temper, which was more frequent than it ever should have been. He blamed it on the shitty way he'd been raised; that was always easiest. Stopped his darker thoughts from becoming more forbidding, as well.

 

"I—damn," he whispered. "I apologize."

 

"Ben Solo, saying he's sorry?" Rey gave him a wink, both of her hands holding onto her clutch. "Don't worry about it. You can buy me a drink if it bothers you so much." She started off without him.

 

"Wait," he said to her back, and she halted. "What if I said it didn't bother me so much?"

 

For a long moment, she didn't do anything. Then she turned her head to see him over her shoulder, maybe to figure out if he was being serious. She must have seen something she liked because she came back to him, not that she'd gotten very far.

 

"It doesn't bother you so much?" she asked.

 

Ben could see Dameron off skulking in a corner, watching the two of them over a glass of what looked to be scotch. He wasn't alone, but he seemed to think he was, by the way he ignored what the group flocked around him was saying. Ben half-snorted and looked down at Rey.

 

"It doesn't," he said, in time to see her return her gaze from Dameron. She must have followed it.

 

"No?" she whispered. It was too low to catch over the music—he recognized the lip movements.

 

"No," he murmured.

 

"Do you still want me to wait until Monday?" she asked, loud enough to be heard this time. He again couldn't really make it out, but it was enough.

 

"Yes," he replied.

 

Disappointment clouded her eyes for a moment, and he felt compelled to expound upon his previous statement. "Only because I broke part of the deal."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

He sighed. "I didn't… _plan_ on interfering."

 

"What makes you think you're interfering?" Her brows pushed together in the most adorable way.

 

He gestured wordlessly to her ensemble, and then over at Cassian and Jyn, his only real friends. And they were twice his age. Christ, what did that say about his life?

 

"Oh, that," she laughed. "Yes, I suppose that would be interfering. But I don't mind it." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

 

"You don't?" It was his turn to be surprised.

 

"No," she said with a slow shake of her head. "I don't mind it."

 

His heart did this weird thing. He thought maybe it skipped.

 

"But I'll wait 'til Monday," she went on. "However, if I do that, then it means I can't have a drink with you."

 

"What—?"

 

"I don't trust myself with liquor around you," she admitted. "I don't think I'd be able to keep my hands off you, if I'm being quite honest."

 

God, he could _not_ pop an erection here. He willed himself to think of unpleasant things. It was unsurprisingly easy.

 

"Well," he said at length, "I don't think… Ah…" Damn it, he hated fumbling for words. She did this to him—she made him so discombobulated. That had never happened before. He didn't know what to _do_. It made things frustrating. "What you said, I agree with it."

 

"That I won't be able to keep my hands off you?"

 

Fuck, she was going to make him say it.

 

"No," he said, unable to meet her eyes. "I meant I feel the same. I… wouldn't be able to keep my hands off you, either."

 

He heard her draw a shuddery breath.

 

A hand touched his shoulder, and then she was up on her tiptoes and her lips were at his ear. "Let's stop talking about this if you want me to wait until tomorrow."

 

His hand curled around her hip. It was very difficult not to think about the last time he'd had her. He couldn't resist pulling her in against him a bit.

 

"I think I can do that," he murmured.

 

Rey lowered herself back onto her stilettoes, but not without a kiss to his cheek, close to the corner of his mouth.

 

"Good," she said. "One of us has to be strong, and I'm not entirely sure it will be me."

 

"Oh, if only you knew how weak I am," he said. It took all he had to keep his hands off her at all times. He wanted her again more than anything. But he'd meant what he said, he wanted her to really think about this. It wasn't a future she would be lightly stepping into, and… he'd exposed his heart enough. If she changed his mind after agreeing to continue whatever this was, she would kill him.

 

He didn't think she heard him. She was resuming her walk toward the bar, perhaps to have only one drink. Ben fought not to run his fingers through his carefully mussed hair.

 

Fuck.

 

He was so fucked, and he knew it, and he didn't mind it, and it scared the absolute shit out of him. Not enough to do something stupid, like call the entire thing off, but enough to make him think. To make him take careful steps.

 

Fuck.

 

 _Fuck_.


	22. The Answer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you guys are still here for the ride!

The sound of the airplane idling filled Rey's ears as she stepped on board. People were muttering, trying to find their seats, and her eyes roved up and down the aisles until she found Ben. First class had once again boarded already—it seemed she'd never be on time when it came to airports. She hoped she wasn't unlucky enough one time to be _too_ late, late enough to miss her flight entirely.

 

Ben had a tablet on his lap and didn't notice her until she hovered next to his empty seat. His eyes flashed up suddenly, widened; he cleared his throat and shifted, gesturing for her to sit with him. She put her things in the overhead, trying to stay out of the way of the other passengers, and then seated herself.

 

"I wasn't sure if you still wanted me to…" She trailed off.

 

"No—yeah—no, I—I still want… you to."

 

"Oh, good," she breathed.

 

She swallowed and looked out to the aisle next to her. Her stomach was a ball of knots. It was Monday, and that hung between them, the knowledge that soon she would tell him what, precisely, she wanted. The thing was, she… she still didn't know. She _did_ … but she didn't. She wasn't sure how much she was allowed to want or take.

 

God, this was ridiculous, bloody ridiculous.

 

Why couldn't the two of them get it together like sensible adults?

 

Rey waited to speak until they were in the air. Ben was gazing out the window at the clouds.

 

"I thought about it," she said.

 

He jerked his head around. "Oh?"

 

"Y-Yeah…" she said with a hesitant smile. "Do you want to wait—to talk about it?"

 

Ben turned thoughtful, fiddling with the edge of his tablet. It was turned off for now, but she knew he'd be studying old races again, attempting to find a pattern he could break, to make his times better. She knew he did it obsessively, but who could really complain about it? He won nearly every time. It was obviously working. This was his craft, that was all. From what she'd seen so far, the man had very few other interests.

 

He didn't even know what a _fandom_ was.

 

"It depends," he said slowly. "We're trapped on a plane together for two hours. Is this something I need to brace myself for?" He was fishing, and it made her smile.

 

She twisted in the seat she could face him a bit more—it was easier because the buckle seatbelt light had turned off. She pulled a leg with her up onto her seat, ignoring the scandalized looks from their neighbors. She didn't care—she had dressed in athletic wear again just to make a point that others could sod off if they had a problem with her. This was possibly… her potential life for now, and… she had to make a stand for herself while she could…

 

Oh, God. This was real. This was really about to happen.

 

Worry shadowed Ben's eyes, though he tried to keep it back. Admirably.

 

"Look, I know—I'm an unpleasant person to be around—" he began, looking everywhere but at her. "—so I'll understand if—"

 

She grabbed his hand, and his words stumbled to a halt. He still wasn't looking at her when she said, "I want to. Do this, I mean…"

 

He wetted his lips and stared at the floor for a long moment. Maybe he hadn't heard her? But then he looked up, and the hope in his eyes was turbulent. He was still trying to keep his expression bland.

 

"You do?" he said very quietly, very cautiously.

 

She nodded.

 

"And you've—you've thought about my life, and what it would mean if you were in it? The tabloids, the—"

 

"I've thought about _everything_ ," she said, squeezing his hand. "And… Whatever this… even is, I want to. Like I said, I don't want to share you… And I don't plan on dating anyone else…" This was hard, harder than she had thought it would be. They were both exposing their vulnerabilities. It wasn't something that came easily to them.

 

"You don't?" he asked.

 

"No. Is that okay?" she whispered.

 

Relief softened into a smile, and he visibly relaxed. "It's preferred."

 

Her heart fluttered, and she smiled back, her own more shy than anything else. He still hadn't let go of her hand, or acted as if he wanted it back, so Rey continued to hold it. She liked how big his was, encompassing her tiny one.

 

"Great," she heard herself say. "And you've… thought about…?"

 

"I knew what I wanted from the moment we…" He trailed off and watched the clouds again. "I know what I want," he said a few moments later. He brought his eyes to hers. "And one part of that is to make sure you won't change your mind… you know…" He cleared his throat. "Decide you want someone better."

 

There were so many psychologically loaded things in that one statement alone.

 

Fortunately, Rey had grown up with a psychologist, and she'd had her share of problems that had shaped her as an adult. She understood where he was coming from, and she half-thought that was why they had clicked together so well in the first place.

 

"I won't change my mind," she murmured. "I—I want… you…"

 

His hand tightened around hers. His free one was tapping along his tablet, and she observed the motion. Who would have known that feeling this way could be so utterly terrifying? Yet people did this all the time, regardless that they were bearing their hearts wide open. Hell, Poe had, and now he was a raw, open wound.

 

Speaking of which, he hadn't texted her since the night before. She didn't think that would last long. He tried to pretend he wasn't, but the man was emotionally intense. He would have a hard time letting go. She wasn't looking forward to when he wanted closure because she wouldn't be able to give it to him. She didn't love him, didn't want to spend the rest of her life with him. It was as simple as that. It was something that would haunt Poe for a while.

 

Damn it. This was why she had held off so long. She really, truly hadn't wanted to hurt him.

 

"Come to my room tonight, then, so we may discuss this more privately?" His thumb rubbed the length of her knuckles. "I'm throwing a dinner for everyone for all our hard work. It's a surprise, but it won't be too long after we land. Once everyone gets settled…" He coughed slightly. She was tempted to make a joke about the apparent phlegm in his throat, but she refrained.

 

"Yes, all right," she said. A fine shiver had raked its fingertips down her spine. She liked his touches. A shuddery breath tightened her chest, and something close to a laugh left her.

 

"What?" he asked.

 

"I—I'm happy," she said.

 

"Really?"

 

"Yes."

 

Ben smiled, showing teeth, and it was the most adorable thing she had ever seen. "I… I am, too."

 

And they spent the rest of the flight studying his previous races together.


	23. Hot Tub

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what Will Smith means!

 

 

 

 

 

Rey had been pacing in front of the elevator that would lead her to the penthouse for nearly twenty minutes, tapping Ben's keycard against her fingers over and over. She didn't know _why_. She wanted to go up there, she wanted to see her… whatever he was. They still hadn't put a label on it, and she wasn't sure if she was supposed to, if she wanted to, if _he_ wanted to—

 

All right, now she was just driving herself to madness.

 

The dinner had gone well. They'd gone to a three star restaurant (something most of them would feel comfortable in), and she'd sat in the middle of the table, away from Ben. It wasn't because she'd wanted to—it was because they hadn't gone public, and he was technically her employer. Sitting across from him might have appeared fishy, when they'd had enough fishy behavior already. Honestly—sitting in first class all the time, being brought coffee? Sacrilege.

 

When the dinner was over and everyone was preparing to be shipped away to their hotel, Ben had brushed past her. It wasn't until she was in the cab that she looked into her purse to make sure she had everything and found his keycard. It had made her grin, since this seemed to be their thing now.

 

Right. And she was here, at last, ready to go to his rooms—and she was chickening out.

 

 _Get it together, Kenobi_ , she thought for the umpteenth time. _You're some version of… "together"… Don't overthink it. You told him you'd considered every angle._ And she had. _You can't back out now._

 

It wasn't even that she wanted to back out. She just—she just—

 

Bloody hell, she'd never been this nervous about anything before!

 

Her father was going to wash her mouth out with soap if she continued to curse. Good thing he wasn't here, then.

 

 _"Language,"_ he'd always stressed to her. _"Speak like a lady."_

_I'm not a lady_ , she thought mutinously, even to this day.

 

Oh, Christ.

 

Oh, Christ, oh, Christ, oh, Christ.

 

Ben was a freaking _prince_. And what followed royalty? _Ladies_.

 

It was highly possible that she hadn't given this as much thought as she should have.

 

_No, Kenobi, snap out of it! Get it together, you're better than this!_

She pressed the up button on the elevator before she could change her mind. Once inside, she hit the very top button labeled "penthouse." There was a weird scan thing once she got to the top, and she placed the keycard to it. The doors opened, and she was stepping into Ben's rooms.

 

Blimey. So this was what a penthouse looked like.

 

Ben jerked away from the doors, and she suspected he'd been lingering to see if she would come up or not.

 

"This is a pleasant surprise," he said after an awkward beat.

 

"Is it?" Her mischievous smile returned as she entered the living room. Her eyes took everything in. Good God, he lived in a sea of luxury. Even his luggage cost more than she made in three months. They were tucked away in an open closet, but she recognized the sliver of the brand peeking through.

 

Did anyone _not_ travel with Louis Vuitton? She'd seen it at the airport, of course, when he'd picked up his things with the rest of them, but it hadn't really sunk in. Not until she saw them mixed up with the rest of the wealth.

 

"I know the girls did my nails and… and made them super clean… you know, free of oil… but I'm still afraid to touch anything in here." She poked her hands into her pockets, which she usually did when she was trying to hide the oil she hadn't ever completely scrubbed off from impatience. Besides, it always seemed to imbed in the seams of her nails.

 

Rey gave something akin to a shrug. She was around his cars all the time, and it was really the same thing in the end. Wealth was wealth.

 

One hand still in her pocket, she tucked her hair behind her ear with the other and ventured over to one of the windows. "Really great view of the city, too." She turned back around, her eyes drinking him in. He was so beautiful, and she couldn't quite place when her heart had started pounding at the sight of him.

 

Ben relaxed minutely—she wouldn't be this casual if it were bad news. "It's a view. There's better in the city, but this one has a private hot tub." A smirk played over his mouth, and he examined the elevator to make sure it had closed properly. No one else had a key to this place except for the staff. They were safely alone.

 

His eyes slid down her body, taking her in. He missed her, the dinner over not even an hour past, and it was so strange. How could you miss someone when you'd just seen them?

 

"They're just things, you know," he murmured. "Sometimes a little more comfortable, sometimes a little better, but it's like Monopoly money. It's only for keeping score." His nerves settling a bit, he stepped in and grasped her wrists, pulling her hands up and turning them over. It was barely a thought to brush his lips against the palms. "You can touch anything in here that you like."

 

Rey's throat tightened—her palms tingled.

 

He could be so sweet…

 

She freed her hands to grip onto his shirt as she leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him. It was a few heated ones, but she remembered herself and dropped back onto her heels, her cheeks pink. She couldn't look away, and she wondered if she was breathing. It didn't feel like it.

 

"That's… good." She wet her lips, her nerves still tugging at her. "It means I can touch you." Her attempt for a smile reached the corner of her mouth. "And you're really spoiled for a view if you think that one is mediocre."

 

"Oh, I'm definitely spoiled," he said in a low voice. "A better view just walked into my room."

 

Rey had to clear her throat a bit, mostly because with those words and the intent look in his eyes, she'd gotten wet, incredibly so.

 

Ben kissed her, looping an arm about her waist. It felt good to hold her again, even though it had barely been any time at all. There was something comforting about having her close, and now they were at last in privacy once more. He wanted to enjoy every moment of it. Despite her agreement on the plane to—to… _be_ with him… whatever that entailed… he was still prepared for it to fall apart at any moment.

 

"So here we… alone," he said.

 

Rey stepped into his embrace, resting her cheek against his chest. She loved the feeling of being in his arms like this, of feeling him breathe, of soaking in his warmth. "I missed you." She was glad her face was hidden. "And I figured that… maybe you missed me, too." Though it pained her to do so, she tipped her head back so she could see him properly.

 

He kissed the side of her head. "You thought correctly." It was ridiculous and over the top, but… if she was feeling it, too, then maybe it wasn't as bad as he had made it out to be in his own head. There was just the simple fact that he hadn't ever missed anyone before, not in the way she  meant.

 

His kisses resumed, traveling to her temple, the line of her cheekbone, and finishing against her lips. "All day I thought about tomorrow, about… taking you out for lunch, or… _lunch_. I know it's slow and that we have a few days free, but…"

 

Ben sighed. He still wasn't certain where they stood on this ground. He was her boss. Not directly—there were at least three or four subsidiaries between them. But his money eventually wound up in her pocket. He didn't want to cause problems for her like that. That was why he had understood when she hadn't sat with him at the celebratory dinner.

 

"I would have lunch with you at any time," Rey said, trailing after his lips for another kiss. "I have nothing to hide…" She lowered her eyes with a shrug. Ben was the one with the true boundaries—he was a prince.

 

She meant it, too, what she'd said. She had nothing to hide, and she had never cared about what people thought of her. That extended to co-workers. The only reason she'd behaved so far was because she wasn't sure if or when Ben wanted them out in the open. He'd mentioned tabloids, so she could only assume it couldn't be hidden forever.

 

And anyway, her co-workers could say anything they wanted, because at the end of the day, her performance spoke for itself.

 

"I really don't," she whispered to her feet.

 

Ben gave her an uncertain look. Naïve or brave? It was difficult to determine. She'd said on the plane, however, that she'd been thorough in her decision. He only hoped she had—it was going to cause problems for her to be seen with him in public so much. The tabloids were hell. He could usually blend in, but all it took was one camera… In fact, it was amazing no one had snapped a photo of him kissing her the night before.

 

"If you're so certain, we could have lunch tomorrow…?" he offered.

 

"I don't care what anyone thinks," she told him. "You know that better than anyone by now." She arched an eyebrow at him. "Are you doubting what I told you on the plane? Do you think I haven't thought it over? Look… if… I hadn't thought about it, if I hadn't—gone over every angle of what it would mean to be seen with you…" She sighed. "I wouldn't have given you my keycard." She tentatively leaned up for another kiss. "If you really want to, lunch tomorrow sounds great."

 

"I do." And he did. It might almost be normal, or something like that. He didn't like sneaking around and hiding. He'd always been a front and center sort of person wherever possible.

 

Ben kissed her again, lining up their bodies and taking a step so she was forced to walk backward. "I hope you brought a swimsuit. Otherwise we'll have to use the hot tub naked, and that would be such a shame."

 

Rey let him lead her, grabbing his arms for support, giggling a bit when she tripped. "No, I guess you forgot to leave that memo. I can honestly say that I've never been in a hot tub before. Would you say I'm in for a treat?" She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and hopped up, her legs going around his waist. "I think I'll wear my clothes. I'm all right with getting them wet."

 

"If you insist." His lips brushed her jaw as he carried her to the tub. She wasn't small for a woman and certainly not lacking for muscle, but he was strong enough that it was no effort at all. "If you change your mind, you can always take them off later."

 

He thought she'd look lovely with her knees on his shoulders and her back against the edge, everything bared for him…

 

With that delicious thought, he juggled her a bit when he entered the room where the tub was so that he could engage the jets.

 

"It's your last chance to undress," he warned.

 

Rey had the sudden feeling that he would definitely dump her in that thing with her clothes on. Looking significantly grumpy, she pulled her shirt off and tossed it over his head. Her bra followed, but it was with more gusto and a laugh because she couldn't stay moody with him for very long.

 

She slid out of his arms and shimmied out of her skinny jeans and panties. Her flip flops had already dropped when she'd climbed up his body.

 

"All right, your turn," she told him. She began unbuttoning his shirt with another of her secret grins, and she paused to kiss skin as it was bared.

 

Ben returned her smile. "Saw right through me?" He popped his cuffs but otherwise left her to it. She looked like she was having fun—he certainly was.

 

His fingers slid down her shoulder. "We should go driving again," he murmured. "Maybe find somewhere a bit further off-road to park." The image of her spread across the still-warm hood of a car, skirt flipped up and hair a mess from the helmet, had haunted him relentlessly since their sojourn through the back roads of France.

 

The quiet heat in his voice made Rey shiver somewhat. She finished pushing his shirt off his shoulders and attacked his pants next, his belt jingling as it was undone.

 

"I seem to be doing most of the workload here," she said wryly. She paused to kiss him, her fingers tangling through his hair. She loved the feel of it every time. "I would love to go driving again." She nuzzled the tip of her nose into his and then returned to his pants. Blasted belt.

 

"I did carry you in," he reminded her in his most haughty voice, the one he'd heard the most from his mother's associates while he was growing up. He smirked at her and very pointedly laced his fingers in her hair to draw her back into a kiss. He was going to have to look around to find which routes would be suitable… and also try and decide which car she'd look the best on.

 

He bit at her lips with a happy hum. "Do you prefer red or silver or black?"

 

His hum caught Rey by surprise, and she gave him a lingering kiss. She pushed down his pants a moment later. "I don't know. I like all of those colors. But… black, I think. It blends in with the darkness more, doesn't it?"

 

She stepped up into the hot tub waiting for them because she was bloody cold in here, and the tub was so far from cold, eons and eons away. She let out a tiny sigh of pleasure. _This is nice_ , she thought, before realizing she'd said it out loud.

 

Ben took a second to make certain the towels were plentiful and within reach before slipping in. He sank down, his eyes closing for a moment as the tub started to work its magic.

 

"The only unpleasant part is getting out," Ben reflected. He sank down further and leaned his head back so he could give her a look from under his lashes. It was one of the only things in his arsenal that he knew was effective at appearing somewhat sexy. "Though I think it might be easier this time, since we can warm one another up."

 

Rey meant to make a joke out of that, but the look in his eyes stole the air from her lungs. "Oh, we can, can we?" Damn, that was far breathier than she would have liked. She chewed on her lip for a moment, debating, and then slid over in the water until she was straddling his lap.

 

"Hello," she greeted with a kiss, her hands sliding over his ribs and down to his hips.

 

"Oh, hello there," he returned, mirroring her, his large hands circling her hips. It was easy to shift her in the water, and he liked it. He also liked aligning her so she was just barely pressed against his cock, which hardly needed any effort to get aroused whenever he was near her.

 

"Are you chilled already?" He tipped his head back to bestow a soft kiss upon her lips, his eyes slipping closed. "I should fix that, shouldn't I? I wouldn't want to be a poor host."

 

Rey rested her forehead against his for a moment. She could feel him against her, and she wanted to touch it, had inexorably daydreamed of being able to do so again. She couldn't resist reaching down in the water to encase it with her fingertips.

 

"No, you wouldn't want that," she murmured against his lips. Her teeth hooked over his ear. "I missed touching you like this." Half of her was turned on just by the fact that she was in Ben's lap—that any of this was unquestionably happening.

 

Ben ran his hands up her hips and sides, endeavoring to rub some warmth into her. In the process, he shifted her even closer, pressing himself against the heat between her legs, the only spot that was truly warm. With a quiet sound that could only be described as a groan, he slid his hands back up the length of her to cover her breasts. Her nipples were perked for reasons that had only a little to do with the temperatures.

 

"Perhaps some exercise to get the blood moving?" he suggested. He squeezed her breasts. He hadn't taken the time to fully appreciate them before, which he was remedying now. He gently tweaked her nipples. "Surely, we can think of something…"

 

Rey smothered a laugh against his ear. "Surely." She shifted to where she could grip his cock and position herself at the head. Her lashes fluttered from the treatment of her breasts, derailing her intentions. Fortunately, that lasted mere seconds, and she started to drift down on him, removing her hand and replacing it with her hips, which she rolled until he was buried inside of her to the hilt.

 

Oh, God.

 

Every single time, how good he felt was far better than what her memory could capture.

 

She kissed him, her fingers digging into his broad shoulders. "Good exercise," she gasped.

 

"Mmm… oh, very good." Ben adjusted her on his lap. In the water it was much, much easier than it had been in the car for her to sit astride him. His fingers coasted over her ribs, and he lifted her, taking command of her hips. His lips caressed hers as he gingerly bounced her. She was on top, but only technically.

 

The heat of the water was an odd, strangely seamless addition, making it harder to tell where his cock was inside of her except by the movement of the water when it wasn't. He nibbled at her lips and eyed the railings.

 

"What?" she moaned softly.

 

He nuzzled the crook of her neck where it met her shoulder. He had an idea, a very promising one.

 

"Do you think you can hold on?" he asked.


	24. A Snuggle at Dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I'd meant to update faster so that people didn't continue to have self-admitted lady blue balls, but my personal life is being a real bitch right now. School isn't helping. Anyway, here we are, the second half of the smut fest!
> 
>  
> 
> A few people have mentioned the exchange of points of view between Ben and Rey during sex scenes. Since the story shows both points of view at certain points, I wanted to try something new with those scenes, because they're so important, what they're thinking while they're… joining. If that makes sense.

 

 

 

 

"Hold on—?" It was taking a moment for coherent thought to return to Rey. Ben was asking her something, and she followed his gaze. Ah. "Yes, I can hold on. But first…" Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she kissed him the way she wanted to, parting his lips. She wasn't sure she'd ever get used to the taste of his mouth, of the way his tongue touched hers.

 

She surfaced for air, her lips notably bruised and more sensitive. "Okay."

 

Ben blinked, lost and feeling a bit like he'd been side-swiped. His head was _spinning_. It really wasn't fair that she could just do that to him. But he kissed her back, trying to give her the same rush of emotion she had given him. His hands locked around her hips, holding her in place as he moved them closer to the rails so she could grab on.

 

Rey made a small noise, her cheeks flaming as he kissed her. She gripped onto the rails, her teeth sinking into his lower lip maybe harder than was necessary. She broke the kiss, breathing shakily and burying her nose at his throat. She nuzzled a kiss there.

 

"Like thiiiis…?" she asked. How could she be so out of breath? She was incredibly fit—and incredibly out of breath. Damn.

 

She made the mistake of looking into his eyes, and she swallowed, once again unable to tear her gaze away.

 

Just looking at her made it hard for Ben to breathe. "Just so."

 

He leaned over her, planting his hands on the edge of the tub. It let him hold her exactly as needed as he rocked into her. He stayed slow at first, learning this new angle, but it wasn't long before his motions hastened.

 

His lips brushed hers, but with how spread out she was, her breasts were right there to be nipped and suckled. He bowed his head to draw a nipple between his lips and teeth as he began to pound into her cunt.

 

Rey gripped the railing, biting back her rising cries. She hadn't felt this before—having him thrust into her like this, this hard. She jerked under his lips, her nipples very sensitive.

 

It was strange how very not long ago she'd wanted to murder him. What if she had never gone to that first party? She never would have run into him—well, have had him "rescue" her. They wouldn't have danced. She wouldn't have asked him to have a drink with her. They wouldn't have gotten drunk enough to make stupid decisions that they then followed through on while sober.

 

She wouldn't be here with him, her world unraveling.

 

Rey twisted a little as she came, her hips bucking once, following the arch of her body. She trembled after, thinking about how it had never been that easy to get off, and how Ben undid her like it was nothing.

 

Ben's tongue worked over her nipple, his eyes locked on her face. She was beautiful when she came. She was beautiful all the time, but when she was orgasming, it seemed oddly special… like it was something for him alone.

 

He shifted his grip where the water was making it slip and kept driving into her. He was already on edge. She did it for him almost without thought or effort. He left her breasts tight and peaked, red where he'd suckled them, and kissed her lips again.

 

"Another." He bit at her mouth insistently. "Again!"

 

Rey had never responded well to someone demanding things from her, but each one from Ben made her core tighten. She almost joked about it, almost tried to be stubborn to mess with him. But with the way he was ramming into her, and the way his cock was sliding over certain spots in her cunt, it was impossible to hold out for very long.

 

She couldn't keep her cry entirely silent, and it wavered. She had an iron grip on the railing as she came again, soaking him once more, her cunt a tightening vise around his cock. Her lips and breasts stung from his bites, but she loved every damned moment of it.

 

"Ben—" She let out a half-sob, tilting her head back, and it was clear she wasn't in pain.

 

Ben kissed her throat. "Rey…" His voice was low, rumbling against her skin as he pounded into her mercilessly. The sloshing of the water hid the sound of skin on skin, although barely.

 

He loved how she looked stretched out, her legs wrapped around him. He nipped at her throat, scraping his teeth across her skin.

 

"God, you're beautiful, amazing…" He bit low on her shoulder, where her coveralls would hide it.

 

The word " _mine_ " crossed his thoughts. It was born out of instinct and hunger, impossible to hold back entirely. The feeling intensified as a fresh orgasm rocked through her and her cries grew louder, more strangled.

 

Rey felt like she was about to come out of her skin. On top of that, it was sinking into her heart, the compliments he'd given her, and she didn't know what to do with it. She still wasn't used to that, to Ben being sweet to her. They'd started out so hostile, and now it had culminated to this, to this dance between them.

 

Her body was being jarred by his thrusts. A forth orgasm, and her core fought to push him out—she freed a hand from the railing to sink her fingers into his hair and drag his mouth down to hers. She hooked an arm around his neck, pouring all the things she was too afraid to say into the kiss.  

 

Ben had been holding out. His cock was being squeezed by that wet heat, and her body was singing beneath his, but it was her kiss that did him in. He cried out as he came, driving into her one final time and then simply clinging.

 

His kisses softened even as he was still spilling inside of her, growing slow and heady. He couldn't stop thinking about how he'd never felt this way with anyone before. Even after he'd finished coming, he moved closer to the wall she was hanging on, so she was propped up, and he was able to hold onto her without much movement elsewise.

 

This was delirious madness.

 

Rey continued kissing him with the same slow, deep kisses he gave her. She was done, he was done, they were trembling together. She pushed his hair off his forehead and back behind an ear. His cry still echoed in her ears, had buried itself into her skin. She wanted to remember every sound, every taste, every touch.

 

Her kisses faded until she brought their foreheads together. She nuzzled the tips of their noses, the movement accompanied by a soft smile, her eyes still closed.

 

Ben closed his eyes in return and just concentrated on her body against his, the soft rise and fall as her breathing slowed to a normal rate. It was peaceful. Relaxing. He didn't really remember the last time someone else's presence had brought tranquility to him. How had she slid so easily into his life after the rough start they'd had?

 

He rubbed her back gently and turned his head to kiss her, missing a little and landing off-center. "Plenty warm now, I imagine. Am I a good host yet?"

 

"A great host." Rey tried to string two thoughts together, finding it enormously difficult to do so. She buried her face against his neck, her arms winding over his shoulders to hold onto him better. "…Thank you for giving me your key." She stayed hidden, drawing slippery designs along his back with her fingertips.

 

He kissed her shoulder and rested his cheek against her. "I am, too."

 

Ben sighed and let himself just hold onto her for now. It was a rare feeling, being so contented. He wanted to keep it for as long as possible. As long as she had no interest in moving, at least. The hot tub wouldn't care if they stayed in it for hours.

 

Rey pushed him at him until he was sitting in the tub, and then she fell back onto his lap. She tucked her face against his neck again, getting comfortable. She could stay like this forever; part of her dearly wanted to. A happy sigh left her, and she enjoyed the hot bubbles.

 

It was as if she was drunk on him.

 

* * *

 

 

Ben was warm and mostly comfortable, only aching in the ways that were inevitable when you were a racer. He nuzzled into the back of a neck, and that was the first time a hint of memory reached him. He was still sleepy enough that he didn't start physically, but his eyes did open a little more before sliding back mostly shut.

 

Rey was curled up in his arms on his bed, her back pressed to his chest, and just like everything else about her and this, it felt bizarrely right. He nuzzled her neck again, pressing a kiss there as he left himself drift. There was nothing to do today, no work, or races, or socializing.

 

They could have this for now.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey stirred a bit but otherwise didn't wake up. She grew still, her breathing deepening. When she finally cracked her eyes open, her mind was foggy, and she knew it was late morning. She took stock of her surroundings and found herself spooned back against Ben, his muscular arm around her.

 

She forgot how huge he was sometimes, and now he was holding her like this. She was so tiny in his arms. But not frail, never frail.

 

She knew he must have woken up at some point; she'd seen how early he got to the shop, sometimes right after she had. But he was relaxed behind her, and she was still in his arms.

 

No doubts?

 

Her heart gave its usual nervous flutter, but she turned over in his arms, pressing her face into his shoulder, sliding her legs between his.

 

Ben sniffed, stretching a little, his arms tightening around her. He'd been dozing, it seemed, and even though he was better rested than he had been in a long time, he didn't want to get up yet.

 

"Stay?" He pressed a kiss to her hair and curled in closer against her. "Please?"

 

He was fighting the last step of waking up, the point where his thoughts would start to circle themselves. He didn't want that, not right now.

 

"Okay," she rasped sleepily. She shifted, her arm going around him.

 

He wanted her to stay! No. _No_. She would _not_ get excited.

 

She loved this side of him. She was so afraid it was fleeting, that she wouldn't see it again, even if she knew it was ridiculous to think so.

 

She drew her lips over his shoulder.

 

"Wake me up when you're ready to get up…" The words died into a sigh of sleep—she'd already dozed again.

 

Ben tucked up against her and closed his eyes, but his mind was waking up. Damn it.

 

She'd agreed so readily, though. And she was still _here_ ; she hadn't snuck off while he slept, hadn't even tried. It was that last part that had him pressing his cheek to her hair and just staying in bed, awake and holding her.

 

His thoughts kept circling around, trying to think about how this would hurt, how it could be ruined, but somehow, they just didn't stick. He'd like to think he'd grown out of that sort of self-sabotage, yet he suspected it wasn't him that had made that change. Not alone, at least.

 

 _Rey…_ he thought.

 

She murmured something indecipherable, her brows lightly pushing together.

 

She was so fucking, unbelievably adorable.

 

And she was his.


	25. Her Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I normally update quicker, you guys, but it's been hellish on my end here lately. But here we go!
> 
> (Also, I posted this over on fanfic and forgot to post it here!??!?!?! So... this is hours late. I'M SORRY, DON'T HATE ME.)

 

_Tick, tock._

 

"Because I don't like it."

 

Mr. Johnson frowned at Rey, setting his notes aside and clasping his hands over his crossed knee. "Don't like what, precisely?"

 

_Tick, tock._

Rey sighed. "I feel—I feel like he's pushing me, and it's… it's… Something isn't right lately."

 

"What isn't right?"

 

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

"Rey?"

 

"My anxiety is different now. It's—"

 

"Heightened?"

 

"I get—pushed out of my body," Rey said. "It's so uncomfortable. I feel like I'm trapped in my skin… I can hear myself talking, crying, laughing. But it's not _me_. I'm just observing. Like I've gone into another dimension or something." She looked at her therapist with desperation.

 

Mr. Johnson hummed. "Has anything changed lately?"

 

" _Everything_ has changed," Rey replied. "Father can't stand that I've chosen to do something other than what he wants from me. And—there's Poe. Poe isn't—he doesn't understand that I don't—" She sighed again, with more frustration behind it, and shut her eyes. She leaned back onto the comfortable couch she was resting on.

 

"Is it his fame?" Mr. Johnson's voice was its usual—soft, probing.

 

"No!" Rey said. "I wish that were the problem, it would make things so much easier. But why am I feeling like this? Why do I have that… out-of-body sensation?"

 

He inhaled, considering his words.

 

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

"Are you still having your mini panic attacks?" he asked.

 

"It's like— _this_ has replaced those," Rey replied.

 

"Have you smoked cannabis—done any sorts of drugs? You know your answer is safe here."

 

"No," Rey replied.

 

Mr. Johnson took her at her word. "As we know, you have many emotional issues, abandonment primarily among them. With your anxiety increasing, it seems to me that your mind is trying to protect you."

 

"Protect me?"

 

"Yes."

 

_Tick, tock._

"…What does that mean?"

 

"It means that your body and your mind become so stressed with anxiety, that in the moment where you _would_ have had a panic attack, your mind pushes you out of your body because it's too much for you to handle."

 

Rey took stock of that, her mind drifting on the implications.

 

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

"What you're describing is known as depersonalization. It's a disorder for some, but I think in this case that it's a symptom. I'll be frank, Rey—I'm not sure what I can do for you, other than offer more therapy, since you refuse to take any medications aside from the low dosage of Zoloft you're on, and I had to pull teeth to get you to agree to _that_."

 

She blew out a breath and closed her eyes, tilting her head back on the sofa. "I don't know what to do. I don't want to feel this way."

 

"At this juncture, all I can recommend is that you admit to the problems you _do_ have, and we can go from there."

 

Her eyes flashed open, anger shooting through her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

 

Mr. Johnson shook his head, rubbing at his eyebrow, his gaze lowered. "I've been working with you for a couple of years now, Miss Kenobi. You know as well as I do that if you continue in this vein, you will be unhappy. Acceptance is the first step."

 

"I thought therapy was enough," she said hotly.

 

"Not when you're exhibiting signs of depersonalization. Will you at least allow me to prescribe you a benzodiazepine?"

 

"No." She folded her arms, and there might have been a huff somewhere in there.

 

_Tick, tock._

"A low dosage of clonazepam," Mr. Johnson said at length, "may go a long way. I don't like prescribing benzodiazepines to young people—it's too easily abused and addictive. But I'm not sure what else I can do for you besides cognitive therapy, and I am fairly certain you don't have the disorder. At least this would help with your anxiety—it might lessen what you've begun to experience."

 

Rey stood up. "I'm going. The hour is almost up, anyway."

 

"Miss Kenobi," Mr. Johnson said, and it was the first time she'd ever heard him speak so seriously to her. There was a graveness to his eyes she'd only seen in her father's. He gestured to the couch. "Please sit. You know as well as I do that therapy and a small dosage of an anti-depressant is not enough to help you."

 

"You can believe what you want," she said. "I refuse to become some sort of zombie—I refuse to go through the _hell_ that medication creates."

 

"Then you will continue to go through the hell that your mind is putting you through. You have real issues, Rey. You have had a terrible past—you have experienced trauma. Those events haunt you to this day, and they shape your mind. Will you _please_ let me help you? Otherwise, I'm afraid you'll never be truly happy."

 

"I don't think—"

 

"How can you, when you told me yourself how alone you are, how you don't believe you'll ever be normal? Normal in the sense that you can have relationships with people, of course."

 

Rey set her jaw, but she didn't move.

 

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

"You have a lot of pride," he said. "And I respect that. But your father stopped forcing you to come here a year ago. Yet here you are. You're afraid. You don't have to be."

 

_Tick, tock._

_Tick, tock._

"But there has to be a change, Rey," he continued. "Or else you'll remain stagnant. Is that what you truly wish?"

 

* * *

 

 

Rey's lashes fluttered open.

 

Holy shite, her bladder was screaming at her.

 

But a handsome, damaged man was snuggled up to her, and so she trailed kisses up his neck, his jaw, to his mouth. "I'll be right back," she murmured.

 

She went to the bathroom, grabbing her purse on the way. Once her business was dealt with, she washed her hands and peered into the mirror. She cupped water and splashed it over her face, her eyes gunky with sleep, heavy to open.

 

There was a knot of worry in her chest. What if she went back out there, and he'd woken up entirely and wanted her to go? She told herself she was being a git and opened her mobile to check for messages. Sure enough, she had several.

 

_Sitrine: Bow-chicka-wow-wow._

_Sitrine: I've always loved that American expression._

_Sitrine: But seriously, mate, my dove, did you shag?_

_Poe: What I don't understand is how I stood by you when you went through those medications, through the therapy. I have stood by you through EVERYTHING. How can you just suddenly say it's over? How am I not good enough? I need closure, Rey._

There were more texts from Finn and her father, but she didn't read them. She stared down at the message from Poe, waiting for the guilt to stir, but it didn't. That was the thing. She had never… been emotionally attached to anyone. Not until Ben Solo. How was she supposed to explain that to him? He wasn't damaged goods. He would never understand.

 

He'd tried. Oh, how he'd tried.

 

But… in the end… it just hadn't been good enough…

 

_Me: You gave it your all. I wanted to love you. I did. But I can't. I really, really, REALLY hope we can still be friends._

His response came back quickly, as though he'd been waiting by his phone.

 

_Poe: No. Do not pull that bullshit with me. Can we still be friends? Really???_

Rey pushed her brows together.

 

_Me: You know me. You know I wouldn't say that if it wasn't true._

_Poe: You have wasted over a year of my life._

All right, _now_ she was furious. Her fingers flew over the keys.

 

_Me: Real talk, Poe._

That was what he'd always called it. Whenever they needed to get down to the honest root of things, they would say something along the lines of, "Real talk: do you think Finn and Rose are a good match?"

 

_Poe: Don't._

_Me: No. You got a say, and now I get a say. I told you REPEATEDLY that I was not in love with you, that I did not want to go beyond dating. You insisted on it. Do not put all of that on me! Cool off. Don't text me until you can speak reasonably._

Which would probably be never. She understood that. That didn't mean it didn't—

 

She threw her phone back in her purse and pressed her fists to her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut. Christ, it was like she'd joined some American drama. Nothing felt real anymore. Everything was so—

 

Sickness clenched her stomach, and then she was trapped in her flesh.

 

 _This is it_ , she thought once she had returned, intensely uncomfortable. _This is just one more reason to let him go. I never feel like this outside of Poe._

She picked her purse back up and dug around in it for her bottle of Klonopin. She popped a pill—they were a low dosage, only .5—and drank beneath the stream of the faucet water to swallow it down. She could never take pills dry.

 

Was she going to have to block Poe's number? She really didn't want to, but maybe he was leaving her with no choice. She had to look out for herself, first and foremost. Then she could tackle someone else's happiness. Years of therapy had taught her that.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey pounced on Ben, pressing him back into the pillows. He was already awake, drowsy, in that state of not ready to get out of bed yet.

 

"I am hungry, and I believe we discussed lunch?" she said.

 

Ben grumbled and dragged her down, rolling so she wasn't pinning him quite so effectively. "Lunch? Breakfast is the first meal of the day, regardless of the timing." He cracked an eye open, like the idea of leaving the room was a terrible one. "I suppose if we must, there is a café not far from here."

 

"You have an accent!" Rey said. She'd never heard it before. It wasn't one she recognized, either, and it was too faint to pick up on. She'd always just assumed that Alderaans had American accents, although now that she thought of it, that seemed quite silly. "Why do you suppress it?"

 

He hid his accent, and he didn't use his Christian name. Why? Was he that desperate to set himself apart from his family? She remembered Andor's remark about Ben's father, and how Ben had looked almost angry afterward.

 

Ben grunted. He wasn't going to give her an answer.

 

Rey started to press soft, sweet kisses to the line of his shoulder and over to his throat. They stopped at his ear briefly where she giggled, and then she found his lips. "Fine. We must." For the second time, she felt… immensely happy.

 

Happy and terrified. Terrified of the happiness. Terrified it was fleeting.

 

But she had to keep living in the moment, regardless of the danger to her heart.

 

"I need to go change," she said, not moving.

 

"Your clothes are likely by the hot tub still…" Ben's mouth pulled to the side. "You might wear one of my shirts. I doubt anyone would notice the difference."

 

She blushed at the idea. Then she kissed his grumpy mouth and sat up. She found her garments and tugged them all on, sans her shirt. That piece she investigated in his closet, finding a simple black one, likely to go under something. She threw it on, noting the fabric was incredibly soft and clingy, but so big it fell to her thighs. Oh, well. When one wore skinny jeans, it was hard to find something that wouldn't go with them.

 

Rey bent back over the bed and kissed him one last time. "Meet you in half an hour?" Time enough for them to shower and slap fresh clothes on.

 

He frowned a bit. "You know where the café is, I assume?" His hand locked around the back of her neck to draw her into another kiss. "Half an hour…" He hesitated. "Thank you. For staying."

 

"You're welcome…" Rey whispered, her heart fluttering. It was really so important to him? "Thanks for letting me stay." She put a knee on the bed, leaning down to follow that soft mouth of his. "And I meant I'll meet you here." Another kiss, her thoughts whirring. "Or you can meet me at my room?"

 

That sounded like an excellent idea.

 

"I'll leave my key. Just let yourself in," she said.

 

She waved and headed out of his room, her heart now thundering.

 

He hadn't wanted her to go!

 

The thought warmed her distant, frozen heart.


	26. Your Voice is My Favorite Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that the updates have slowed to, like, once a week. Homework is piling up. They'll speed up again, though, I promise!
> 
> And here we have one end to the glacially slow progress that are these bastards. Yay.

 

  _Don't believe the things you tell yourself so late at night,_

_And you are your own worst enemy, you'll never win the fight_

_Just hold onto me, I'll hold onto you,_

_It's you and me up against the world, it's you and me,_

_I don't believe anything, don't trust anyone anymore,_

_But I believe you when you say we're never gonna fall,_

_Hand behind my neck, arm around my waist,_

_Never let me hit the ground, you'll never let me crash (down)_

-Parachute (Acoustic), Ingrid Michaelson

 

The first thing Ben did was call down to the front desk and have two coffees in to-go cups made. He wanted a reason to not immediately run to Rey's room.

 

He didn't take his time showering, and he only rinsed enough to not smell as if he'd spent the evening having fantastic sex. His hair stayed tousled, however. He shoved himself into a pair of actual jeans that hugged the muscles of his legs and threw on a button down over it. He kept it untucked with his sleeves rolled up. He slipped into some shoes and was ready to go.

 

Ben went down to the lobby, grabbing the waiting cups. In a rare good mood, he tipped one toward her in thanks before climbing back into the elevator. He stared up at the ceiling and counted his breaths, waiting for Rey's floor. He was absolutely _not_ nervous. Why? Because there was nothing to be nervous _about_.

 

The elevator dinged, its doors sliding open, letting him out onto Rey's floor. He left the temporary comfort of the machine and bit his lip as he peered left and right, reading the numbers. Her room was right. Great. Excellent.

 

It was only as he paused before her door, ready to use her keycard, that he realized he really _had_ been stalking her. How else had he known her usual order of coffee? He could vividly remember camping out a Starbucks she liked to frequent, newspaper raised over his face so she couldn't see him.

 

He abruptly laughed at himself and shook his head. That should have been the biggest hint for the things to come.

 

Ah, he could be such an oblivious ass.

 

Juggling the coffees into one hand, he dug out the keycard and watched the light on the lock glow green. He couldn't spot Rey, but he could hear the shower running. He set the coffee down on the tiny table these rooms offered and then began stripping.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey kept the water boiling hot, so steam had already filled the room and fogged up the mirror. Her hair was directly under the stream as she soaped herself up with her own loofa. A quiet groan slipped free. Showers were so amazing on sore muscles.

 

Arms slipped around her waist, and a kiss touched her shoulder. "Warm now?"

 

Jesus, Mary, and—

 

She jerked so hard she nearly slipped on the tiles. She hadn't heard the door open over the sound of the water. She relaxed quickly, however, turning around in Ben's arms, looping her own around his neck as she lifted to kiss him.

 

"Hi," she said in what was probably the most chirpy voice she had ever managed. It was quite embarrassing, really.

 

She kissed him again to make him forget it, backing up with him so he'd be in the spray of the water. She liked the way her slick breasts felt against his equally slick chest.

 

"Couldn't stay away from me for long?" Her smile stayed happy and pleased, refusing to budge even a centimeter. "I'm glad."

 

"You're too addictive for your own good," he told her. He kissed her and ran his hands down her back.

 

"Me? Never." She was thrilled that he hadn't denied it.

 

She found her soap and poured more onto her loofa. She never relied on the hotel for her things. Besides, her own product smelled and felt better than that was offered here.

 

She grinned as she began to soap up his chest. It was a citrus scent, not overly floral. "I'd wash your hair, but you're too tall." She didn't think she'd ever showered with someone before. She liked her privacy. But this was nice.

 

Everything had been so nice.

 

Ben rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "I'm not _that_ tall." Which was bogus, considering he was three inches over six feet. "But if you insist, I'll wash yours instead."

 

"Good," she said perkily.

 

He squinted his eyes. "Garnier? Isn't this… around almost four dollars in the States?"

 

"Yes," she said. "And it works just as well as more expensive products."

 

Ben snorted. "I find that highly doubtful." Regardless, he took the shampoo and squeezed some onto his palm. "Turn around and let me work it in." He kissed her forehead before applying the decent-smelling scent into her hair.

 

Rey obeyed him, closing her eyes. Feeling his fingers work on her scalp made shivers run down her spine. It was the light of day, and he was continuing to be so sweet. Hope fluttered, the cursed thing—hope for their future. But she couldn't bear too much of a grudge. He felt the same as she did, after all.

 

"You said the café?" A familiar bundle of nerves roiled about in her stomach. She knew what she'd signed up for. The man was a prince. It didn't bother her, and she wanted this, but that didn't make it less frightening.

 

She had never been seen with him in public—not just the two of them, and not on a date. This was a huge step for them. Maybe others would think nothing of it. Rey's mind wasn't wired that way, and neither was Ben's. They were too damaged to see things simply.

 

"Is it all right if we sit outside?" she asked. She had to show him she meant what she'd said: she was ready for this. The only thing that remained to be seen was if he still was. God, she hoped he was.

 

He was quiet for a moment, scrubbing at her scalp. "The weather's nice enough for it, at least," he eventually conceded. She wondered if he was having second thoughts—that had been a long pause. His voice, on the other hand, was still pleasantly neutral.

 

A frisson of tension ran its fingers through her. They were both afraid.

 

"Great," she said. She rinsed her hair out, tilting her head back into the stream. She stayed that way for a moment, letting the water sluice over her face. She had something on her chest, and she wasn't sure how to go about it. "I…" The rest of the words faded to silence. She had to clear her throat. "We've—talked about… not sharing… and if—if we want to do this…"

 

"Yes," he said slowly. The conditioner lid popped, and his fingers were back in her hair, gently tilting her head out of the flow of water.

 

"I know I said—I know I implied that I didn't want a label…" She wet her lips. "I don't like labels. I never have. But… But I want there to be an _us_. I want—to be your girlfriend."

 

There. She'd said it.

 

 _Girlfriend_.

 

Oh, God. Oh, _God._

 

"Girlfriend?" Ben echoed. His voice remained steady. She doubted he was on the inside. "I want that, too, but I don't…"

 

Dread clenched her heart and refused to let go.

 

He took his thoughts out on her hair, a little more rough on her scalp. Then he seemed to realize what he was doing, and the gentle massage returned. "Rey, I've never really been… in a relationship. I don't even know what that looks like, not when it's… real. But… I do… want that." It sounded like it was taking everything he had to get the words out. She could appreciate that. This was difficult for her, too.

 

They were leaving themselves wide open, raw, vulnerable.

 

"I want it," he said more firmly.

 

He wanted it. Okay… okay. He wanted it.

 

She hadn't been sure what to expect—maybe not that—so it made the rest bearable.

 

"Ben…" Her mouth opened, and nothing came out. She wasn't a champion on the relationship front herself. "I've… I've met people—I've dated them… even in long stretches—I'm not sure what it looks like, either. But I—I know that I want you. I want you for my own." She'd said that before, but the context was different now. It held so many other things.

 

"I am," he said roughly. "I am yours. And I'm going to ask you again—are you sure this is what you want? Because it's not just me. You know that. I wish… that I could take you on a regular date and not have to look out for paparazzi, or wonder when my mother will make demands, or if my father will show up… It's not only me. Do you want that, too?"

 

Rey pretended to take some time to respond because giving him an answer too fast would result in him not taking her seriously. She turned back around to see him, and his eyes were so big and brown, deep pools of emotion.

 

"I do," she whispered. Maybe he couldn't hear her over the shower, but it wasn't difficult to read her lips. "I know I've never experienced it, so I can't be 100% sure… but I am 99.9% sure. I know it will be hard—I know it won't be easy. I know there will be times where I'll hate it."

 

He was hanging onto her every word.

 

"But I want you more than I'm worried about any of that. Having you makes it worth it." She stopped talking and looked down at the drain. This whole putting her heart on the line thing was immensely uncomfortable.

 

"I've spent my whole life hating it," he said. "I'm… always under a microscope. My family, the kingdom, the paparazzi, society, and other racers…" He wet his lips. "Sometimes I think that if I dropped everything and ran off to camp in the mountains, I'd wake up one day to a camera coming in under the edge of my tent."

 

Rey couldn't help it—she giggled.

 

"You'll hate it, too, yes" he promised her. "You're too smart not to. But if you think it's worth it… if you think— _I'm_ worth it… For you, I will try again. A label. A relationship. Your boyfriend."

 

"I do think it's worth it," she reiterated. " _You_ are worth it." She backed him into the opposite wall, a short distance away as that was, and kissed him. She burrowed into his arms, resting her cheek on his chest. Her heart was pounding. So was his.  

 

Progress.

 

Real progress.

 

He wrapped his arms around her in return. "You're worth it." He held onto her a little tighter and then laughed with a slight twinge of bitterness lacing it. "My father is going to love you."

 

Holy shite. His father—his father being a king.

 

Right, right.

 

Right.

 

"Oh? Why would your father be interested in a mechanic? In fact, I think your family is probably going to hate me," she mused. "I have no blue blood at all, and I'm adopted."

 

Gad, they'd be against all of it.

 

Well—well, fine, then, whatever. Ben knew this, and he still wanted to be her boyfriend. That had to account for something, didn't it?

 

He stared at her like she'd just spouted gibberish. "Believe me, your lineage will be the last thing they question."

 

Rey blinked. "It will?"

 

Ben shook his head. "I'll tell you, but not here. We'll want coffee for this—and food. I'm hungry." Catching her expression, he added, "I promise I'll tell you once we're dry. Now come on, let's finish showering." He rubbed her back. "Quickly. I brought coffee, and it's likely cold by now."

 

"You brought me coffee?" Rey smiled and kissed him before getting under the spray one last time. "Let me guess—just the way I like it?"

 

He mumbled something.

 

Her smile spread into a grin.

 

Her adorable stalker.


	27. Brunch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about the delay. I'm sick right now; I've got a nasty sinus infection on top of homework I had to knock out this week. I wanted to update so you guys didn't think I was neglecting the story. The chapter is a little shorter than I intended, but I'd rather put something out than nothing.
> 
> Thanks for everyone who's stuck through this story with me so far. <3 I appreciate each and every one of you, and I appreciate each and every one of your comments. You are what keeps this story going!

 

Rey came out of the bathroom wearing skinny jeans, black ballet flats, a white blouse, and a black blazer with three-quarter sleeves. She'd thrown on some makeup, unusual for her, and had applied a bold lipstick she knew she looked good in. A sock tube had pulled her hair into a bun, and she'd used bobby pins to poke strands of hair into place. A spritz of perfume completed her ensemble.

 

"How do I look?" she asked with a smile and a slow twirl.

 

"You look lovely." Ben caught her hands as she finished her twirl and kissed her cheek. Then he reached over to the table and pressed her coffee into her hands. "You ready?"

 

Rey took note of how nervous he seemed. Once more, she flashed back to the party, and how tense he'd been at the mention of his father. He hadn't seemed so in the shower, though… Hm. Interesting. Maybe she would find out more today about the deeper stuff, not just the basic facts about his family.

 

"I'm ready," she said. She took a grateful sip of her coffee. It was cold, but still good, and more importantly, it was caffeine. Seeing his in the trash, she quickly gulped hers down.

 

"You don't have to—"

 

She held up a finger.

 

Finished with her coffee, she tossed it in the trash can with his. "Nope, it's fine, I needed it. You wore me out last night," she chuckled as they left her room.

 

" _I_ wore _you_ out?" he asked with a lift of his eyebrows.

 

She rolled her eyes playfully. "Oh, please."

 

"I did most of the work!"

 

"Hey—!"

 

"No, I don't mean that as an insult. You couldn't do much—you were struggling just to hang on. But I put a lot into that. I'm old. My back almost gave out." He was smiling freely in a way Rey had never seen before, and it made her relax. Finding comfort in his presence was still very new, but she thought she could get used to it.

 

"You're not _that_ old," she said.

 

"Once you hit the age of twenty-five, it's all over."

 

"Hm, I don't know," she mused.

 

"Wait and see." He pushed the down button for the elevator. It opened, and he gestured. "After you."

 

"You really are like a prince when you want to be," she observed as the doors slid closed and they were on their way to the lobby.

 

"Or a gentleman," he countered.

 

"Do you hate being a prince so much?" She tilted her head.

 

He wet his lips and wouldn't look at her. "There's a lot of responsibilities—ones I'm not ready to deal with yet." The elevator dinged, and he tugged her with him, lacing their fingers together. It was a blatant display of public affection. She had a feeling it wasn't going to take long for the media to get wind of their relationship.

 

It was almost warm enough outside to make Rey regret wearing her blazer, but it was too late to turn back now. As they walked to their destination, however, the wind tugged at her, cooling her off. She looked around at her country and waited to feel that sense of coming home. She'd been waiting since she'd stepped foot off the plane.

 

"I have to visit my dad soon," Rey said. "Tomorrow, so I'll be busy. But I'll be back in time to prep for the races." She glanced hastily at him. "Don't worry, I don't expect you to come."

 

He looked relieved. She didn't blame him. She wasn't ready to meet his parents, either, and his had a whole lot more tagged onto them. She also wasn't so sure Ben should meet her father just yet. Ben's titles wouldn't impress him. Ben Kenobi expected a lot from her, and he'd barely approved of Poe. Ben Solo was dark to Poe's light. There was no way it would go over well. Best to put it off for as long as she could, as she no doubt believed Ben was thinking about his own parents.

 

She remembered when he'd told her how long it had been since he'd been home.

 

They walked past the corner café they'd talked about.

 

"What are we—"

 

"There's a better place." Ben pulled out a pair of sunglasses. It was bright out. "Just up the block from here. We can still eat outside."

 

"Okay," Rey said slowly. "But by better, do you mean I'll never in my life be able to afford it? Because we don't have to eat at four or five star restaurants—"

 

"I don't not eat at four or five star restaurants," he informed her. She couldn't tell his expression behind the black lens of his glasses. He was too good at keeping a stoic face—it was in his eyes that she caught glimpses of his thoughts. "And… you're with me now. So that means you don't, either."

 

Rey had always been a fiercely independent person, and that person pushed forward now. "I don't like the idea of you paying for everything," she said in earnest. "It not only looks like I'm a gold digger, but—well—"

 

"It's too late to back out now," he said gruffly. "Being with me means accepting my lifestyle. I'd accept yours, but I think we should be realistic."

 

"Meaning _what_ , exactly?" He'd poked her into ire.

 

"Meaning I'm a prince, and you're the daughter of a renowned professor at Oxford. I'm also one of the best racers, which is where I get most of my money from. I don't rely on the crown." He squeezed her hand. "I'm independent, too. Just let me take care of you today, at least, okay? It's our first date."

 

"All right," she agreed with a sigh. He was right. It _was_ their first date, and it wouldn't be so bad if they didn't go dutch, which was what Rey usually insisted on.

 

They were guided onto a nice patio that overlooked the city. All Ben had had to do was say his name, and they were accepted without a reservation. Rey wondered if she was underdressed. A glance at Ben reminded her that he was on the same level of style as she was. That was good. Besides, the rest of the customers didn't look _too_ above them in terms of proper dining clothes.

 

There was a trellis covered in vines, and lights were strung from the roof of this building to the one beside it, one that was equally classy. Below there was an alleyway made of cobblestone where people walked to and fro, going on about their daily lives.

 

Ben let her order for herself, which was something she'd been slightly concerned about. They were brought water and fresh orange juice, and then their waiter vanished again. This left them relatively alone—there weren't too many people out here with them.

 

"I think I'm becoming a fan of brunch," she said.

 

"I think I am, too," he replied. He'd taken off his sunglasses, and a smile danced around the corner of his mouth.

 

"You never did it much?" she asked curiously.

 

He let out a small breath, gazing over into the interior of the restaurant. "It's a couple's activity, isn't it?"

 

"That's true," she laughed. "So are we going to talk about your family yet?"

 

"God, no," he said. "I need food first, or I'll get a migraine. I get one just thinking about it," he added in a mutter.

 

"Do you think the paparazzi are going to try and destroy me?" This was a question she was genuinely serious about—and concerned. Sure, she'd agreed to take it on, but the media could be really cruel when they wanted to be.

 

"Something tells me no," he replied. He reached across the table and took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. "Just be yourself. The rest will fall into place."

 

"Look at you, being a supportive boyfriend." Rey may have made the comment flippantly, but her stomach was tied in pleasant knots. This was going much better than she had anticipated. She was glad they could be like this beyond bedroom activities.

 

"It will come and go," he said.

 

She grinned at him.

 

Their food arrived not long after, and Rey dug in with a gusto. She wasn't going to pretend she didn't have an appetite. They'd fucked themselves senseless the night before, and she hadn't had anything to eat for hours and hours. And _God_ , was this meal delicious. She had to make herself breathe so she didn't wolf it down in five bites.

 

"You go by Solo, but your family name is Skywalker," she said. "Why?"

 

He squinted into the sun as he turned his head. He was already shredding a muffin. "I've… got a complicated history with my parents."

 

"I'm listening," she said quietly.

 

"Well, good," he said. His eyes swung back to her. "Listen carefully, because I'm only going to tell the story once."

 

"I'm all ears," she promised.


	28. Skywalker to Solo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short-ish chapter again, but I needed to leave it here. Thanks for everyone's well wishes! Still sick, but trying to make it, heh.

 

"It's a really simple story, actually."

 

Rey took a sip of her orange juice, her eyes intent on the prince sitting across from her. He had been super secretive about his past, his family, and had said he was only going to tell her the story this once. Now he was saying it was simple?

 

But it quickly became apparent he was being blasé, eager to get it over with and move on. "Father was a smuggler. Knocked my mom up. They got married so I wouldn't be born a bastard—they covered up my dad's past the best they could, but… he wasn't blue blooded. Everyone knew something was up, though I don't think anyone's really figured it all out."

 

He sighed and cricked his neck, closing his eyes. "My country dictates that you can't have a divorce."

 

Rey opened her mouth to question this but was quelled with a look from Ben. No Interruptions. Right.

 

"So my father slowly began to resent my mother for it, and I was always sent off to boarding school. The only people I was really close to were my grandfather and grandmother… especially my grandfather. He died when I was young, though."

 

She nodded to show she was still listening.

 

"My grandmother… well, since I've taken up racing, I haven't spoken to her much. I regret that. I was very close to her after Grandpapa—" He coughed sharply. " _Grandfather_ died. I was close to my mother, as well, but…" He pursed his lips together and drummed his fingers against the table. "She let him send me off all year. They knew I didn't have friends—they didn't care. Or maybe Mom cared, but she didn't want to say anything to him about it? They fought all the God damn time. I mean, one of my first clear memories is of my father telling my mother that I was a mistake."

 

Holy shite.

 

Rey didn't know what to do—offer him her hand? Her condolences?  They hadn't been together long enough yet to gauge what comforts would work. The two she'd just come up with were terrible ideas. Ben would never take anyone's pity, no matter how well-intentioned.

 

He pushed his fingers through his bangs. "He was an asshole," he said point blank. "He made no effort to get to know me. My parents barely talk now. It's why I stopped going back. Why the hell would I want to be in that uncomfortable castle? Sure, my mother and grandmother get along and enjoy having me home, but…" He laughed bitterly. "It doesn't matter. You don't want to hear this shit. So there it is—I told you it was simple."

 

Rey took time to answer, not wanting to say the wrong thing right off the bat.

 

"If you have questions, get them out now," he said.

 

"All right…" She released a breath, leaning back in her seat. A stray breeze blew strands of her hair across her face, and she tucked them away behind her ear. "If you hate your father so much, why did you take his last name? Why Ben Solo? Why not Ben Skywalker?"

 

"I don't know," he said.

 

Er—

 

Well…

 

"Okay," she said.

 

"Something to prove? His family life was fucked—maybe I'm the one putting a good name on his lineage. He should be fucking grateful," Ben said, not without some anger tinting the words. "Besides, I hate being the Prince of Alderaan, sole heir to the throne. I'd rather rub it in that bastard's face than carry around the Skywalker name."

 

He _really_ hated his father. It didn't take a genius to piece that together.

 

Rey slipped a hand over her elbow, her legs crossed.

 

"I'm sensing—" No. It wasn't worth it.

 

"Go on," Ben insisted.

 

"No, it's fine," Rey replied. "Honestly."

 

"Say it." His eyes bore hard into hers. "Get it out."

 

"What really happened there?" Rey leaned forward, her arm and knee digging into her stomach. "He sent you off to boarding school, thought you were a mistake, yes, those are terrible things. But there's something you're not telling me, and I want to know what it is."

 

"No," he said immediately.

 

She sighed. "This is why I didn't want to bring it up. Look—" She gestured at him, her hand back on the table. "You have to trust me. And you said you would tell me the whole story. So what is it?" she asked much more gently.

 

"I've heard that before, and it didn't mean shit," he replied.

 

Rey just looked at him.

 

He shook his head again, lowering his eyes. For several minutes, Rey waited, listening to the soft sounds of the next breeze rustling its way around the patio. Some instinct told her not to give up—not to push, but not to stop. It was something he needed to tell her, and she wanted him to be out with it.

 

"Fine, fuck it," he announced, his sigh a half-growl as he closed his eyes and shoved his fingers into his hair, his head tilted back. She enjoyed watching the muscles of his biceps flex, the way his shirt clung to his chest, pulling. "I was in and out of therapy all my life, I'm on medication, but when I was in my early twenties, some shit went down, I had a gun, I tried to kill myself—I pulled the trigger, but my father tried to stop me and got shot instead. He survived, has a small battle scar, and, I think, hates me even more."

 

He was throwing so much information at her so quickly that it was hard to digest. She knew that was his intention, so she purposefully bulldozed through, forcing herself to process it. He'd opened his eyes, and they were dark, watching her steadily. His lips were pulled to the side in a near scoff. He was ready to call this a bad idea and get the hell out of there—she saw it all. If she didn't choose her words carefully, the whole thing would implode, and he would run away.

 

And she wouldn't be able to blame him, because she would have done the same thing.

 

Rey lowered her voice. She had a whole speech planned, but what came out instead was, "I've been in therapy all my life, too. I'm on medication, as well." The faintest of smiles touched the corner of her mouth. "I'm not judging you. If anything, I like you more for being honest with me." This time, she took his hand, uncaring if he wouldn't like it. "I attempted it. Once."

 

"What happened?" he asked, his voice not much louder than a murmur.

 

She didn't want to talk about it. She wanted to take her hand back and clam up and call this off.

 

She made herself take a deep breath. "I had a hard time as a teenager. It was only even sort of recently that I—accepted medication. But… I guess everything caught up with me, all the bad stuff I'd been trying to put off, and all I could think about was taking my car and crashing it into a building. It drove me mad…" Tears were lining her lashes. "It was all I could think about. I didn't have any control over it. I was so unbearably lonely, and nothing could reach me."

 

Hot tears fell off her cheeks, but she didn't wipe them off yet. She'd found the floral centerpiece of their table easier to stare at while she spoke. "I had a plan. On the way home from school, I would take my car over a bridge. But… that day, I kept going. I took myself to a doctor because I was scared of my thoughts. They committed me for three days. The rest is history." It wasn't as traumatizing as shooting her father, but it was upsetting nonetheless.

 

Ben gave her some time to gather her composure before he grasped more firmly at her hand. "So unbearably lonely, where nothing could reach you?"

 

"Yeah," she said with a sniffle.

 

"And you… tried to drown it in dating, or sex?"

 

She nodded.

 

"Not so very far from me, then," he muttered. Then he gripped both of her hands on the table and squeezed them. She brought her eyes to his. "You know I'm fucking terrified, right? Of us?"

 

She nodded again.

 

"I know you are, too. But…" He took one of her hands and lifted it to his lips, where he pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. He gazed at her from over the edge of them. "You're not alone anymore. And neither am I."

 

Fresh tears made their way to her eyes, and her lower lip trembled.

 

"I'm going to be here for as long as you let me, Rey," he said. He closed both of his hands around hers, cradling it between his palms. "And if you tell anyone I said any of this shit, I'll deny it to my dying breath."

 

She laughed, a few tears dripping free.

 

He flashed a rare grin and let her go. He opened his wallet and threw some bills on the table. He stood up, reaching for her hand.

 

"Where are we going?" she asked.

 

"To spend the day together," he told her. "One date wasn't enough. I know we've both seen the city a thousand times, but we've never seen it together. It'll be new. What do you think?"

 

"I think it sounds perfect," she said. Before, she'd barely been able to summon up a smile, and now she couldn't keep one off her lips. "You, Mr. Solo, can be very charming when you want to be."

 

"Of course. I'm a prince."

 

She laughed as he wound an arm around her shoulders, tugging her against his side. When they hit the pavement and light glinted off a lens, they ignored it. The paparazzi could take all the pictures they wanted. The only thing that could come between them were themselves, and they were both doing their hardest not to let that happen.


	29. Surprise Visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double story update! Whoo!

 

"I've been waiting for this moment for a long time," Ben said, falling onto one knee.

 

Rey's eyes widened. She took a step back, disoriented. Wait, what? Where was she? But as she looked around, she could see that she was in a castle. Right. Of course. Ben's family castle. They were… walking… down a corridor, and now they were…

 

Ben watched her steadily as he slowly opened a black box. He was decked out in full prince regalia. He had on white gloves and everything—there was even a crown adorning his brow.

 

"Will you marry me?" he asked.

 

Her heart was pounding. She couldn't think. "Um—"

 

"Don't do it."

 

She whirled around to find Poe standing there.

 

"Don't do it," he said again. "You're making a mistake."

 

"Yeah," came a new voice. Finn slowed to a stop beside Poe. "What I had with Rose _was_ a mistake. Marry me instead."

 

"No," Poe said. "Marry me."

 

"No," Ben said behind her. "Marry _me_."

 

"S-Stop," Rey sputtered. She was having difficulty getting air—there was a hard knot in her chest, and she thought she might vomit.

 

"Your father loves me." Poe reached for her, and she stumbled away until her back hit a wall and she had all three of them in sight. "He thought we were a good match. He said so."

 

"I don't care what my father—"

 

"Thinks?" Finn finished. He smiled at her in that disarming way of his. "Of course, you do. That's why you should be with me. How long have we known each other?"

 

Rey was so caught off guard she didn't even know how to respond at first. "Rose—"

 

"I told you." Finn grabbed her hands. "That was a mistake."

 

"Finn, I don't—"

 

"Get your hands off her," Ben said, coming to his feet.

 

"Make me," Finn retorted.

 

"Guys—"

 

"Your father gave _me_ his blessing." Poe wrapped his fingers around her shoulder. He stared intently into her eyes. "Remember? He said I could take care of you—"

 

Rey squeezed her eyes shut, hoping they would all go away. They didn't.

 

"Mates, back off!" demanded a new voice. Hope fluttered in Rey's chest, and she opened her eyes to see Sitrine. He moved in, pushing the three men out of the way.

 

"Sitrine!" she gasped.

 

"She's _mine_ ," he said, slipping his arm over her shoulders.

 

"Wait—" Rey choked.

 

"No, she's _mine_ ," Ben growled.

 

"I was there first!" Poe protested. "Remember, Rey? Remember when we—?"

 

"I've been her friend the longest!" Sitrine said. "I've been there for her her whole life! What have you lot got against that? Nothing, that's what. Leave her to me."

 

"Oh, hell no!" Finn rebuked him. He pushed Sitrine.

 

"Guys, seriously, stop it!" Rey cried. This was getting wildly out of control. "Sitrine, you don't even see me that way! Why are you here?! And, Finn—you have a wife! Who you love! Poe—I told you that we're done, please accept that! Ben—"

 

The prince pushed the others aside and stared down into her eyes like he had when he'd been holding up the dazzling ring. Like she was the only thing in the world that mattered to him, and always would be.

 

"Ben…" she whispered. "I—"

 

But it was useless. No sooner had she taken a breath than the foursome began to brawl. She let out a yell, not stupid enough to get between them, but fearful nonetheless. She didn't understand what was happening. How were all of them here? How was she in Alderaan? Why were they fighting over her?

 

A light flashed, followed by several more.

 

"Miss Kenobi?" A microphone was shoved in front of her face. "We've heard you've had four proposals. As you know, the public is concerned about the prince. Is infidelity an issue here? You should really let the world know."

 

"What—?"

 

The lights grew bright enough that she had to shield her face with her arm. Abruptly, she wasn't in the castle anymore. She was in her Valentino dress, on a red carpet, and the paparazzi were swarming. Behind the lines, groups of people were shouting at her that she was a whore, a gold digger, a nobody, someone who wasn't even worthy of biological parents.

 

"We understand you were abandoned," a reporter said, intruding on her thoughts. "Tell us more about that."

 

"You're going to marry Prince Skywalker?" another asked.

 

"What about Poe Dameron? Wasn't he a contender?"

 

"Was he not good enough?"

 

"Are your sights set so high?"

 

"What could a prince possibly see in _you_?"

 

"Your father definitely won't approve. So what's the point, right? Would you care to give a word?"

 

"Stop!" Rey shouted. "Just—stop! Quit!"

 

The guardrail against her enemies was gone, and they lunged at her. Just as they made contact, pummeling her to the ground, she sat up straight in bed, gasping in huge gulps of air with the same desperation of someone who'd dreamt they'd fallen off a skyscraper.

 

Rey touched her face, her clothes, her covers. She picked up her phone, swallowing hard, and checked the time.

 

Five in the morning.

 

She fell onto her back, realizing she was covered in sweat. Her heart was racing faster than ever.

 

_Knock, knock, knock!_

Rey jerked back into an upright position, staring at her door.

 

Who the devil was that?

 

Pushing her covers off her, she slipped into her robe and peered through the peephole of the door. She gasped and jerked it open, laughing in confusion as Sitrine swooped in and hugged her. He lifted her off her feet, spun her around a bit, and then put her down again.

 

"Sitrine! What are you doing here?"

 

He winked. "Thought you'd need some moral support with the old man." He took a long look around her room. "So where's the prince?"

 

"I slept here tonight," Rey sighed. "I had to get up early, so—"

 

"Being considerate? How unlike you." Sitrine made himself comfortable by leaning against her table.

 

"Hey!" she protested.

 

"Why are you so flushed?" Sitrine tilted his head with a lecherous smile. "Were you…?"

 

"What?" Rey asked.

 

His smile spread.

 

"Ew, no!" Rey grabbed a pillow and smacked his arm with it. "God, you're disgusting. And that's none of your business! I only—I had this really… bizarre dream, and I'm… still processing."

 

"Lay it on me," he offered. "I've had some psychology classes. I can help decipher it for you."

 

"Thanks, I'm… good," Rey said. Sitrine was overly fond of Freud, and he would have an absolutely bloody _field day_ with this one. "So I take it you're here to ride the train with me?"

 

Sitrine formed a gun with his finger and mimed pulling the trigger.

 

Right.

 

"All right, well, I just woke up, so I need to get ready. You good with waiting?"

 

In answer, Sitrine sat down at the table and pulled out his phone.

 

Rey grabbed some clothes from her closet, gave him an awkward half-smile, and then went into the bathroom to shower.

 

"He's not going with you?" Sitrine called after her.

 

"I don't want him to," Rey said as she shut the door. Then she closed her eyes and forced herself to take a few deep, relaxing breaths. Her hands were shaking. She had to fumble to get the bathtub faucet turned on to a temperature she could stand.

 

All right… that dream had been… Well, she wasn't entirely sure she could pick it apart. Her father, infamous as he was, didn't put a lot of emphasis on dreams. _Dreams are dreams_ , he'd said often enough. _They're usually concocted of what you've thought about during the last thirteen hours._

 

She poured shampoo into her hair and scrubbed at her scalp. If her father was right, then that dream had just been a mashup of the previous day. She'd texted all four men, and… Honestly, Finn was the part that felt the oddest. Maybe her brain had thrown him in for more chaos, she didn't know.

 

Then again… Sitrine? She _had_ been texting him before she went to bed, however, about how great her date with Ben was.

 

" _Senorita_!" her friend cooed in a falsetto through the door. "You've been in there half an hour already! Let's go! We've got quite the ride out to Oxford!"

 

"Shut it!" Rey snapped. She would be done when she was done.

 

She sighed. She couldn't cower in the shower forever. He was right. They needed to get going soon.

 

"I'll meet you in the lobby!" she said. "Go and get us coffees!"

 

"Aye, aye, _El Capitan_!"

 

"Your Spanish needs some work!"

 

"I've only spoken two—no, three words! Why are you so rude?"

 

Rey snorted a giggle. There was never any way that Sitrine looked at her romantically. She was his little sister mostly.

 

She hadn't been looking forward to the trip.

 

Now she was.

 

Sitrine was right. She _did_ need moral support to see her father. It was sad… but it was also the truth.

 

"Here goes nothing," she muttered, stepping out of the shower.


	30. Knee-Jerk Reaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone's support thus far! I love you guys!

 

"So did you _really_ not want Solo to come with you to see sweet ole papa?"

 

Rey sighed and silently said farewell to _The Duke and I_ , setting her Nook aside.

 

"What?"

 

"Is it going to be like this entire time?" Rey asked. "This is the fifth time you've interrupted me to ask that question." '

 

Sitrine cleared his throat, lying on his back in their compartment. "Well, you see, it's just that I don't believe you, dear."

 

"Believe what you want," Rey grumbled. "Just let me read." She held up her Nook. " _This_ is the book you told me to read, and now I'm reading it, so what's the problem?"

 

Her friend scrambled into an upright position. "You're reading _The Duke and I_?"

 

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. You know this."

 

"I imagined you'd only read the first chapter, not really get into it!" He clapped his hands with enough enthusiasm to make Rey rethink this trip. She wondered if she could just leave him behind, but thought it was pointless, since he'd turn up again eventually, anyway. Sitrine was _always_ around.

 

Not that normally she minded, but _damn_ , he was being bloody annoying today, and they'd only been on the train an hour.

 

She should have splurged and gotten a rental car. Taking the transit was adding over two hours to her trip. But she hadn't wanted to deal with the hassle and had honestly been planning to use the time to get all of her thoughts together. Mull over Ben and Poe and the paparazzi and every damned thing she'd dreamt about. And read, because she was behind on it.

 

"I got into it," Rey said. "Now leave me alone so I can continue to get into it."

 

"This is supposed to be fun!" Sitrine whined. "You're behaving like a crotchety old lady, and I can't say I like it."

 

It wasn't the first time he'd said that—more like the thousandth—so it didn't bother her as much as he'd intended.

 

"You should have brought entertainment, then," Rey said, turning her e-reader back on. "It's not my fault you can't think past your penis."

 

"What does my penis have to do with anything?" he asked disbelievingly.

 

"Sitrine, you make _everything_ about your penis."

 

"Hm." He sat back. "That's actually very true."

 

"Mmm," she said.

 

He snatched the Nook out of her hands.

 

"Oi!" she cried.

 

"Ohhh, you're at _that_ part. Pretty great, right?"

 

Rey groaned.

 

This was going to be a _long_ ride.

 

* * *

 

 

"I can't believe Cassian Andor and Jyn Erso signed your phone. I don't really follow racing, but I know how much you worship him. And that Finn fellow. Tell me, is he still married to that Rose? No, don't answer. I know he is.

 

"When do you think you're going to get around to bringing the prince to meet your father? And really, I mean it, _let me come_. I simply _must_ be there to watch Ben lose his mind. There is no way in hell he's going to accept the prince as good enough for you.

 

"Shame about Dameron, though. I'm proud of you for ending it. He was so crazy about you, you probably ruined him for life, but, hey, at least you got great sex out of it. It's going to be awkward seeing him around at the races. All those parties.

 

"But you've got that covered, don't you? You're nice and prepared. You've thought deeply about this. I recall all the texts. Which is _why_ it's just so strange that you wouldn't want Solo here. How long are you going to be in denial about this, Rey-Rey?

 

"Oh, that's right, you abhor that nickname. You—"

 

"SITRINE, JUST SHUT UP!" Rey yelled so loudly that students stopped and stared at her. She swallowed uncomfortably, suddenly very self-conscious. After a few moments of stunned silence, the occupants of the courtyard went on their way. Most of them looked haggard—it was quite early in the morning.

 

"It's so easy to rile you up," Sitrine chuckled, ruffling her hair. He ignored her growl as she went to fix it. "You know, if you would just admit you wanted the prince here with you, I'd let all of this go."

 

"FINE, Sitrine, I wanted the prince to come with me," Rey said.

 

"You know, I don't believe you." Sitrine looked at the top of the stone corridor reflectively. "It almost sounds like you're saying what I want to hear."

 

Rey tossed him a disgusted look.

 

He grinned evilly.

 

"Look, let's just find Father's office, all right?" Rey begged with almost a whine-sob.

 

"I still don't understand why we couldn't have waited at his house," Sitrine muttered. "He's going to be here _all day_."

 

Rey reached into her purse, grabbed her keys, took off the one to her father's house, and tossed it at him. "Here. Go wild."

 

"What? Rey!" he called to her back as she walked on without him. When she didn't answer, he sighed loudly. "All right, but he's just going to tell you the same things I am. You shouldn't live in denial."

 

He was right. But what her father didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

 

* * *

 

 

"Rey! Darling!"

 

Her father rose from behind his desk, an expression of happy wonder crossing his face. His hair was entirely white, and he had an equally white, close-clipped beard. He had a bit of a natural tan and enjoyed sweater vests. Tweed. Bowties. A typical nerdy professor, her father.

 

"Hi!" she said cheerfully and hugged him tightly when he took her into his arms. She rested her cheek against his chest, and he kissed her hair. The familiar scent of his cologne made her relax. Ben Kenobi had rescued her. He was now one of two people that she truly and sincerely cared about.

 

Oh, she loved her friends. But her trust didn't come cheaply.

 

Her father squeezed her and released her. "I thought Sitrine would be with you." He raised an eyebrow, settling back into his desk chair. She sat across from him in one of the two leather chairs on the other side of the desk.

 

She crossed her legs. "I sent him to the house. He was seconds away from death."

 

"From death?" her father said with a startled chuckle. "Really? He was so bad?"

 

Rey smiled sweetly, a strained thing that revealed the tension from her annoyance. "If he had asked me a question about Ben Solo one more time, I was going to take my purse and beat him over the head with it until he either passed into unconsciousness or did, indeed, die. Either one is appealing right now."

 

Ben Kenobi's chuckle deepened, and he shook his head. "He is a character." He smiled at her, a wicked glint to his eye. "I don't think I could have picked a better guardian for you."

 

"Daddy, I _hate_ having a guardian," Rey groaned. "I'm more than old enough to—"

 

"You mentioned Ben Solo?" her father interrupted casually. "The prince? Why is Sitrine bothering you about that?" His eyes narrowed. "He's not hurting you in any way, is he? Never be afraid to stand up for yourself, especially in America."

 

"Dad," Rey said exasperatedly. "No. It's nothing like that." She hadn't wanted to tell him about Ben, not really, but she didn't see any other choice. He was going to find out eventually. Might as well hash it out now.

 

"Well, then what is it?" her father demanded.

 

Rey wrapped her arms around herself and found a spot on the ceiling to peer at.

 

"You're only making my imagination worsen."

 

"We're dating," Rey said.

 

Her father stilled. "What?"

 

"We're dating," Rey repeated. She clasped her hands around her knee. There. That wasn't so bad. Not bad at all. "I wanted you to know before you saw it in the tabloids."

 

Ben regarded her carefully, his brows furrowed, a finger lightly tapping on the desk, as though he was deciding which words to choose. "What about Dameron?"

 

"What about him?" Rey replied, puzzled.

 

"He was, ah…" Her father pulled a peppermint out of the bowl beside his laptop and crinkled the plastic wrapper. He seemed to be fascinated by it. "Very much in love with you. I thought you felt the same for him." He flicked a glance her way. "Did something change?"

 

"I was never in love with him to begin with," Rey said a little sorrowfully. "Dad… I know you thought he was good enough for me, but I—"

 

"You're dating your boss," her father interrupted again. All pretense of concern was gone. "I thought I raised you with better values."

 

Rey's shoulders drew back in offense. "It isn't like that."

 

"It isn't like what?" he said sharply. "The man employs you. You work for him. He is in a position of power."

 

"So what?"

 

"So this is an abuse of it!" Ben's hand slapped down on the top of the desk, making Rey jerk. "And even if he weren't, that man is not right for you."

 

"Daddy, _no_ man will ever be right for me!" Rey protested.

 

"You're damned straight!" her father thundered. "But someone might come close. He is not that someone. He is a mistake."

 

"Where is this coming from?" Rey cried. "You don't even know him!"

 

"I know enough. He's a _prince_ , Rey. It's not exactly difficult to Google him." Ben's face was drawn into hard lines of disapproval. "And what I found, I didn't like."

 

"Since when do you buy into what tabloids say?" Rey sputtered in disbelief.

 

"Since he's dating my daughter!" her father retorted. "An endless parade of—of, for lack of a better, more appropriate word, tramps. He never has the same woman by his side. He has strained family ties. How is this the man you develop feelings for?"

 

" _You don't even know him_ ," Rey said through her teeth. "Do you not trust me to know my own mind?"

 

"It's not your trust I doubt, dear!"

 

"No, it's his!" Rey replied. "How cliché! My father, a man of logic and—and—" Rey gestured uselessly. "A steady rock in my life! You're acting like my father. Stop it. Think about this like you would if it was any other person!"

 

"I would come to the same conclusion!" Ben snapped. "The man is a whore! He flaunts the disrespect he holds for his family and shirks his responsibilities at every turn! How is this a standup individual? He isn't. Why have you become so blinded? You know better than this, gel!"

 

Rey stood up, hot fury quaking through her. "Then you don't know me at all! And you're the person who's blinded—since when have you looked only at the surface behavior?! He—"

 

"Likely has deeply intense mental issues, yes!" he shot back.

 

"So do I!" Rey yelled. "That's why we like each other, Daddy! I understand him."

 

"Oh, Rey—"

 

"And he understands me!"

 

"You're so naïve," he murmured.

 

Rey couldn't think of what to say, she was so angry. She held up her hands and grabbed her purse, storming out of the office.

 

* * *

 

 

"He's just being protective!"

 

"Don't defend him!" Rey yelled as she paced around her father's library. Sitrine was sprawled over the couch, his head propped up on his hand.

 

"What did you expect?" her friend laughed. "He's always been protective of you. That's how we met, remember?"

 

"He's ridiculous!" she spat. "He can't see me as an adult! He still sees me as the child he rescued from the orphanage!"

 

"Well, that's not _strictly_ true," Sitrine reminded her. "He approved of Dameron, after all."

 

"You are _not_ helping me," Rey snarled.

 

"Oh, that's what we were doing?" he asked obliviously.

 

For the third time that day, Rey walked out on someone mid-fight. She just had to get out of there. One second longer, and she'd punch Sitrine in the face, and she didn't want to do anything she'd regret later.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey sat on the windowsill in her bedroom and forced herself to exhale slowly. She picked up her phone. It was a bit after lunch. She wanted to text Ben—wanted Ben to text her first. She wasn't sure what the protocol was here, what was safe, what wasn't. They hadn't exactly been separated this long in quite some time.

 

Ben was so tentative about this, though.

 

She decided to test the waters.

 

_Me: Hey._

A response returned almost immediately.

 

_Ben Solo: Hi._

She smiled.

 

* * *

 

 

_Father: Rey, will you come down to my study, please?_

Rey frowned at her phone and seriously considered not obeying him. She was curled up on her side, half-drowsing. She could see that it was late afternoon. Her father was home from the university.

 

She propped herself up onto an elbow and considered some more. She was exhausted emotionally. She didn't want to fight anymore with her father. She detested it. She loved him so much. It—it hurt that he didn't believe in her. She had been expecting it, but the reality was so much more… terrible.

 

Sighing forlornly, Rey slipped off her bed and headed downstairs. She couldn't avoid the man. She was here visiting for three days. If they couldn't get over this hurdle, she would wind up going back early, and that would be just as terrible. She traveled nearly all year with her pit crew. She didn't know when she'd see him again.

 

But she didn't want to get over the hurdle if he kept such a strong stance against Ben.

 

She reached his study and poked her head in. "Daddy?"

 

"Come in, come in," her father ushered, shutting the door behind her. He eyed it for a moment, likely determining if Sitrine could eavesdrop through it. Then he shook his head with a flip of his hand and sat in his desk chair.

 

"What is it?" she asked.

 

"You're right." He looked up at her, stroking his beard. "I was… overreacting. It's just that I see so much for you. I feel like you're taking everything I've given you, and you're throwing it away. Why are you determined to do this to yourself, Rey?"

 

She couldn't believe they were getting into this again. Not after he'd acknowledged the earlier drama on the campus on his part.

 

"Daddy, I like what I do. I don't want to be a doctor or a lawyer. I know you think it's because I want to take the easy way out, but that's not it. This is what I was _born_ to do, or at least it feels like it right now. Maybe that will change, I don't know." She came to the front of the desk. "We have to find some way to make this right."

 

"You're correct, my dear. We do." Ben Kenobi drew a deep breath. "I've been considering something. I wasn't sure how to bring it up to you, but we're in the thick of it now, so I'll tell you. Would you consider taking an online class?"

 

Rey hesitated.

 

"Please, Rey. I just want you in school." He grabbed her hand. "Even if you go for something… related to what you're doing now. Please do not lose momentum. _Do_ something. _Be_ something. You are great. Do not let yourself falter. You will find who you are meant to be, but not if you throw away everything."

 

"I'm not throwing away everything," Rey said.

 

"Rey—"

 

" _No_." She snatched her hand back. "I'm not. Maybe it seems that way to you, and I'm sorry for that. But that's not how it is for me." She searched his faded blue eyes. "But I'm not… I'm not _against_ an online class." She hesitated. "That's good enough for you?"

 

"I'm a desperate man," he confessed with a faint smile. "Here, sit. Tell me about your young man. I promise I won't lose my head."

 

Rey eyed him suspiciously.

 

"You have my word," he said gravely.

 

Relaxing a little, Rey sank down into a chair. "There's not much to tell yet."

 

"Why don't you start from the beginning?"

 

"Dad," she protested. "I—I'm not sure… I'm ready to talk about it. It's still fresh. It's still new. I don't… I don't know what I'm _doing_."

 

"Perhaps I can help," he offered. "My dear, I _promise_ you I will listen with an open mind. I hate to see you so stressed. I only want to help you."

 

She bit her lip and jiggled her foot against the carpet, antsy.

 

"If you mean it…"

 

"I do," he assured her.

 

Rey swallowed and shrugged. "All right… But it's kind of a long story."

 

"I've got all night." Her father smiled reassuringly.

 

She gave a tentative smile in return. "Well…"


	31. A Picture Says a Thousand Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that sinus infection turned into acute bronchitis, which I'm only a couple of days into. It feels like I'm dying. I should be resting, but I wanted to churn out a chapter so you guys don't think I'm neglecting you. Well, and, honestly, I just wanted to work on it, hehe.
> 
> If there's a delay in Bond, that's the reason, for a heads-up.
> 
> Now I'm for bed.

 

****

_Ben Solo: Good morning. It's early. Text me when you wake up._

Rey checked the timestamp—twenty minutes ago. She normally kept her phone on silent so Sitrine didn't keep her up at all hours of the night with his manic train of thoughts. Christ, that man was an energy _vampire_. Any time he was in the room, _swooooooph_ —took the energy right out of you. Half because it was exhausting listening to him enjoy the sound of his own voice, and… well… It was Sitrine.

 

She sat up in bed, pushing her covers aside. Her bedroom hadn't changed since she'd left, not that she'd really been gone too long. Paraphernalia covered her walls: posters of cars, movies she'd seen at the theater, and dorkier stuff. Stuff she'd die before letting Ben see. Not that he understood fandoms, anyway.

 

_Me: I'm awake._

It was as she was getting dressed for the day that another text appeared, binging soon after she'd sent hers.

 

_Ben Solo: Are you alone?_

Rey considered. Her father was, of course, at the university. Sitrine had gone out last night and never returned, probably having been shagging for roof.

 

_Me: Yes?_

_Ben Solo: Excellent. I have a very specific set of instructions I want you to follow._

She blinked.

 

_Me: Such as…?_

His response made her flush very deeply.

 

_Me: OMG!_

_Ben Solo: Are you saying you're not up for the challenge?_

_Me: I didn't say that._

_Ben Solo: Then get going._

_Me: I don't take orders from you, Solo._

_Ben Solo: You do today._

She jiggled her feet against the floor, her mind racing. To do it or not to do it? It was just— _embarrassing_. She'd never done anything like _that_ before. But… despite her comment, it was sexy when he gave her orders like this. Damn him.

 

_Ben Solo: Well?_

Gah!

 

_Me:_

Rey hesitated over the keyboard, tilting her head back to stare up at the ceiling.

 

_Me: Fine._

* * *

 

 

The steam from the hot shower filled the bathroom as Rey began shedding clothing. Her phone was positioned on the edge of the sink. She ran a comb through her hair, glad the mirror was too foggy to see her expression. The continuing embarrassment from the situation would have been reflected on her face.

 

Unable to dawdle anymore, she inhaled and perched her phone nearby as she stepped into the streaming water.

 

Here went nothing.

- _Wash your hair.-_

 

She lathered shampoo into her hair, sunlight streaming in through the small window that was placed amongst the tiles. Once that was finished, she did the same with her conditioner, her nerves tight in her belly. This was both exciting and terrifying all at once.

 

- _Soap and whatever else, of course._ -

 

Rey shaved—everywhere. Ben had seen it all before, but that didn't matter, as she'd been slacking a bit lately. There was no way she was cooperating with him when she could be mistaken for a sasquatch.

 

She giggled a little to herself at her own joke.

 

Ah.

 

- _Now touch yourself. Show me._ -

 

This was the part she was leery about. Sending pictures with such risqué content wasn't the smartest of ideas. But she trusted Ben, even if this _was_ still embarrassing to think about. She hadn't ever sent dirty pictures before. Anyone else, and she would have told them no.

 

- _Your breasts first. Pinch a nipple. Show me how much you want me to touch you._ -

 

Rey could imagine his voice, could feel it sliding over her skin, could see the intensity in those dark eyes. She let that encompass her, tentatively reaching up, her fingers tugging around a nipple to bring it to a peak. In her first picture, she kept her face away from the camera, exposing what he wanted but unable to work up the courage to look at him dead-on. She made sure to keep the mobile away from the spray of water but kept herself submerged beneath it so he could watch it play over her skin.

 

A response zipped back almost immediately.

 

_Ben Solo: Good. Now the rest. And look at me._

Demanding bastard.

 

She slipped out of the stream and stepped across the shower to place her back against the opposite wall. The tiles were cold but warmed quickly. She held the mobile in one hand as her other slid down her body.

 

- _Play with your cunt. Let me see your fingers pushed deep inside it._ -

 

Rey touched her clit, began to rub the hood on either side of it, stimulating nerves. She groaned very softly despite the empty house, somewhat paranoid she'd be overheard or discovered. Once her clit was throbbing and her folds were wet, she spread her thighs more and shoved two fingers inside of herself.

 

Since she was masturbating, she decided she'd take her time and enjoy it. He could wait.

 

Biting her lip hard enough to chafe, she scissored her fingers, working herself open. She closed her eyes and flashed back to the last time they'd had sex and the time before that. The car, with him sprawled beneath her as she rode him—the intimate joining—the hot tub. Ben's large hands covering her body. His mouth feasting on her cunt.

 

Fuck.

 

She pressed her thumb up, working her clit in time with her fingers until she slid a third one in, and then a fourth. From this angle, she couldn't do too much about depth, but it still felt good. She fantasized about Ben's cock slowly entering her… his breath against her ear, hitched from pleasure… his groans, low, almost growls…

 

Before she crested, she fumbled with her phone and snapped the photo. Her eyes had darkened; her lips were parted wantonly. Her fingers were obscenely occupied between her legs.

 

_Ben Solo: Oh, fuck._

She put the phone in a safe location and returned to business. It was getting harder to control her groans. She rubbed her clit harder and harder, the thrusting of her fingers increasing in pace. Ben—arching over her. Ben—his mouth suckling on her nipple. Ben—hissing out a breath when her fingers wrapped around him. Ben—curled around her in the morning, hair tousled.

 

A cry threatened to break free, and she had to smother it as she orgasmed. She slumped against the wall afterward, panting a bit.

 

_Bang, bang, bang!_

 

Rey jumped like a gun had gone off.

 

"Rey, dove, hurry the hell up in there! I need to shower off the smell of sex and alcohol!"

 

Annoyance flickered. Sitrine. At least she'd finished.

 

"All right!" she called back, trying to hide the shakiness to her voice. "I'll be out in a moment!"

 

He didn't reply, so she assumed he'd meandered off.

 

Rey soaped herself up once more and then stepped out of the shower, one hand reaching for a towel, the other for her phone. She smiled when she saw Ben's response, which was a picture of his come spread over his fingers and cock.

 

_Ben Solo: Hurry the fuck home. I need you._

_Me: Just for sex?_

_Ben Solo: No._

_Me: For what else, then?_

_Ben Solo: You know what._

_Me: Do I?_

_Ben Solo: Don't be difficult._

_Me: I think you owe it to me after that show._

_Ben Solo: Fine._

Minutes passed.

 

_Ben Solo: You're mine. I miss you. I want to wake up next to you again. Satisfied?_

Her smile erupted into a grin.

 

_Me: Very._

 

Just one more day, and she could return to him. The thought was enough to make her hum cheerfully. When she opened the door, she found a hungover Sitrine there.

 

"What in God's name are you so merry about?" he grumbled.

 

"Oooh, nothing," she sang.

 

"Shhhh," he said. "You're screaming. Let's use our inside voices."

 

She laughed and ignored his curses as she went downstairs to get breakfast.


	32. Hold Me Close, Sway Me More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. With the honeymoon, and catching up on schoolwork, and some other things, I've gotten a little behind. I started a story for Christmas called How to Save a Life if anyone is interested!
> 
> Anyway, this chapter is slightly not work safe. So, as usual, read at your own peril.
> 
> Love you guys!

 

_I can hear the sound of violins,_

_Long before it begins,_

_Make me thrill as only you know how,_

_Sway me smooth, sway me now_

-Sway, Dean Martin

 

"You're going back today, right?" Sitrine asked the next morning. He was cradling a cup of tea, and they were sitting at the island in the kitchen.

 

"Yeah, I've got to," Rey replied. She rubbed at her eyes blearily.

 

"Not get enough sleep?" Her friend raised his eyebrows.

 

"I—I had this strange dream," she admitted.

 

"Oh, do tell," Sitrine said with all the insistence a four-year-old might have over a princess dress.

 

"No," Rey said instantly.

 

He pouted. "Why-ever not?"

 

"Because you want it too much," she replied warily, taking a sip of her tea.

 

"Well, that's just rude," he said, affronted. Rey didn't take it seriously; it was very difficult to offend the man. He usually took whatever insult someone said and twisted it into something lewd to the point that it wasn't worth it anymore.

 

Thinking on it, it was a pretty solid tactic.

 

When Rey didn't cave to his pouting, he threw up his hands. "Woman!"

 

"Man!"

 

"Good lady!" Sitrine amended.

 

"Good sir!" Rey said, pumping a fist horizontally through the air in a winning way.

 

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," Sitrine said while giving a small, gracious nod of acknowledgement. She gave a bow in return, fluttering her hand to make it dramatic. "But I would prefer the details of this dream, if you will."

 

"Fine," Rey sighed. She lifted her cup to her lips, her thoughts winding toward the events that had transpired in this dream. "But you have to promise me you won't laugh."

 

"Rey," Sitrine said, stricken. "You know I can't make that promise."

 

She kicked his ankle.

 

"Ow! Oi!"

 

"Promise or I'm not telling!" She continued her kicking, since it appeared to be effective. He certainly was wincing enough.

 

"All right, all right, I promise, but it had better be good!" Sitrine cried uncle.

 

Rey waited two heartbeats before inclining her head. Best to get it out all in one go.

 

"Ben showed up, we started dancing to _Sway_ —"

 

"Which cover?"

 

"Why does it have to be a cover?"

 

"Because I know how your mind works."

 

"Ech, fine! It was Michael Bublé."

 

"Ha!"

 

"'Ha!', what?"

 

"Nothing. Continue."

 

Rey rolled her eyes and set her tea down. "He was incredible at the tango—"

 

"You were doing the _tango_?"

 

"Could you please stop interrupting? You're the one who wanted to hear this," Rey said irritably.

 

Sitrine mimed zipping his mouth shut.

 

She took a breath. "As I was saying… We tangoed, and then right at the end Poe shows up—"

 

Her friend looked like he was having difficulty breathing. She considered telling him he looked constipated and gave it up as a bad job. Once again, it wasn't worth the fallout.

 

"And they start fighting over me, and then I woke up to you banging on my door saying, 'Rey, I can't find my knickers, have you seen them?!'"

 

A hush fell over the kitchen. Sitrine let his eyes flutter to the ceiling as Rey folded her arms and stared him down. His lips were twitching—they almost, _almost_ curled into a smile, but he managed not to. Rey huffed in annoyance and returned to her tea. At least he wasn't laughing outright, keeping to his promise.

 

Sitrine shifted in his seat. "Do you want to discuss it like you would if I was your therapist, or do you want to imagine together if Ben Solo really can tango?"

 

They both cupped their cups of tea in their palms and peered at the ceiling contemplatively.

 

After a small amount of time had passed, Sitrine opened his laptop. "Did I show you that you made some headlines?"

 

"What?" Rey gasped. She covered her face with her hands, then spread her fingers so she could peek through them. "How bad is it? Oh, gosh, do I want to know?"

 

"Pretty favorable. No one knows who you are yet. It's mostly speculation."

 

"I wish it could stay that way," Rey muttered.

 

But they knew it couldn't.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey left the train station and alone and caught a cab to her hotel. Sitrine had preferred to stay with her father for now, since he was bored of babysitting her, and following her from country to country wasn't worth the trouble. Rey loved Sitrine dearly, but she couldn't say she wasn't glad to be rid of him.

 

It would take a special person to handle him on a daily basis.

 

She unpacked in her room and then wondered what she should do. She hadn't texted Ben when she'd get back—had no idea where he was now. All she knew was how badly she wanted to see him. That was still a bit frightening, but not as much as it could have been. Despite what her father had said, she trusted the prince.

 

Smelling like the train she'd trudged in on, she took a shower. She wanted to look good not only for Ben, but apparently for the tabloids, as well. She hadn't yet gained the courage to see what they were saying about her, what they'd found out. Not that she had anything sordid in her past, thankfully. She had no blue blood, it was true, but Ben had already said that it didn't matter.

 

She blow-dried her hair, curled it with a flat iron. Satisfied, she picked out the cutest outfit she could—a sleeveless, green blouse with a few ruffles, and the pants that made her arse look amazing. At some point, she was going to have to shop. She always wore the same things because she spent so much time working on cars, but if she was going to be in the spotlight…

 

Rey found him in the shop. It was empty, her co-workers absent. He was going over some paperwork, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, and had yet to notice her. It made it easy to shimmy up behind him and cover his eyes with her hands, nudging the glasses up slightly.

 

He jerked.

 

A second later: "Rey?"

 

"How'd you know?" she asked, mostly jokingly. Who else would it have been?

 

"I can smell your perfume."

 

She removed her hands, flushing a bit, but was rewarded in a moment when he turned in her arms and made her hop up. He secured his arms under her arse as he pushed her against the nearest wall and kissed her. It was a heated kiss, his tongue parting her lips nearly immediately. She let herself get swept up in it with a groan, her fingers in his hair.

 

"Gone too long," he murmured between kisses.

 

"I have no other stops," she gasped back. He had moved to her neck.

 

"Those pictures were fucking hot," he said. He squeezed her bum.

 

"Oh, yeah?"

 

"Yeah." His teeth sank into her ear, tugging. "You were very, very naughty."

 

Rey groaned, pulling him closer. She tilted her head so he had easier access to those sensitive areas. He obliged by dragging his tongue up the length of her neck and then biting her ear again. She was breathless, wet—could feel him pressing into her.

 

"What if I told you I want you to sit on my dick?" His teeth scraped her shoulder.

 

She had to fight for words. They came haltingly, distractedly. "Um… someone—could walk in—"

 

"That's what makes it hot," he said. "Answer the question."

 

She found his lips and kissed him fiercely, both of them battling for dominance. When he yielded, she tugged on his lower lip with her teeth as he had to hers, mostly to watch his eyes darken the way she liked.

 

"Pull it out," she said.


	33. Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interlude because things are going to start moving into motion after this chappie. New wheels are a'-turnin', and the next arc begins!

 

 

 

 

Rey squeaked as Ben stumbled back and then forced her up against another wall, making the tool case shudder. She laughed a second later, trying to keep it quiet so they weren't overheard. Ben had gotten her pants and panties over her hips and past her feet. She returned the favor, eagerly reaching for his cock, groaning a bit when she touched it.

 

"Is it odd if I say that I missed your cock?"

 

"Not as much as I missed your cunt," he breathed into her neck as the tip of him dipped inside of her.

 

Rey normally wasn't a fan of the dirty language, but Ben made it difficult for her to care. Everything he said thrilled right through her, successfully cutting off any thoughts to make it stop. If it was hot, it was hot.

 

Then he was inside of her, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt. She groaned against his ear, her arms tight around his neck. For a moment, they stayed that way, breathing one another in. Holy shite, he felt so damned good, stretching her open in a way no one had ever fulfilled. It was almost half of the reason why the sex was so amazing.

 

He rested his forehead against her shoulder, still not moving. Touched by the sudden tenderness, she turned her nose against his temple. She wanted to ask what was wrong out of habit, but she knew there wasn't anything wrong at all. They'd missed one another just as much as their parts. The slight inward joke made her smile faintly.

 

Ben pressed kisses to her shoulder, each soft and slow.

 

"What happened to me sitting on your dick?

 

He obligingly sat in the chair at his desk, making sure she was snug in his lap, still buried in her. He tilted his head back to see her, his eyes still dark. They spoke of a sense of ownership, and she didn't think she minded it.

 

Her original plan to ride him hard and fast faded into slow, steady rolls of her hips. She liked the way his breath hitched, the way his eyes eventually closed, lashes feathering dark on his cheekbones. She slipped a hand under his head, gripping his hair, kissing him as he had first kissed her minutes ago.

 

Ben drew his hands up her back, fingertips gliding over her spine. His hands circled her hips, helping to hold her as she moved. What had started off as heated, something to turn them ablaze, had softened into sweet and intimate.

 

"Stay with me," he whispered.

 

"W-What?" She drew back, unsure she'd heard him right.

 

He lifted, lowering them to the floor, settling comfortably between her thighs. He slid back inside of her, making them both groan. "In my room. Stay with me."

 

"Are—are you sure?" she squeaked.

 

Kissing her fluttering pulse, he smiled against her skin, but nerves had made his body tense. "Do you want to?"

 

"Yes," she said before she could think about it.

 

This was new. Really new. They'd maintained their own separate hotel rooms until now. He wanted her to stay with him…? And it wasn't that she didn't want to—oh, she did. Maybe she would just stop questioning everything and go with it. That couldn't hurt too badly… right?

 

"Pack up your things. Bring them tonight after dinner." He grasped both of her wrists and held them above her head with one hand. The other played with her clit, rubbing on it as he had his way with her.

 

Fuckfuckfuck—

 

"I can't make a mess here," she panted.

 

"It's a cement floor. I think we can work it out."

 

"Ben!"

 

He nibbled at the hollow of her throat, rubbing harder. "Yes?"

 

She spasmed a little, writhing beneath him. Her eyes rolled back in her head, a heel catching on the floor. He was strong enough to hold her down, to kiss her, swallowing her moans as she crested and orgasmed. He finished soon after, and they both panted as he pulled out and came to rest on the floor next to her.

 

"Fuck," he said with enthusiasm. He grabbed her hand and laced their fingers between them. He turned his head to face her and pulled her fingertips up to kiss them. His lashes were lowered—a smile played at the edge of his mouth. "You'll move your things?"

 

"But won't everyone know?" she whispered.

 

"It might slip out," he agreed. "But do you care?"

 

"Do you?"

 

He shook his head, holding her gaze.

 

"There's already an article about me," she whispered. "Or so I was told."

 

"Nothing bad." He kissed her fingertips again. "They're going to find out one way or another. You said you were in. Are you in?"

 

She had said she was in. But she hadn't known they might be—technically—sort of—living together. At least while they were in Britain. Then again, what the hell did it matter? She would spend the whole time in his rooms, anyway. They both knew it.

 

"Are you going to stalk me if I say no?"

 

He nipped at her fingers.

 

"Hey, that tickles!"

 

"A silly question required a silly answer."

 

"Fine." She rolled them until he was underneath her. "On one condition."

 

He arched an imperious brow.

 

She grinned. "Let me hear your real accent."

 

Ben narrowed his eyes. "What? No."

 

"Then I guess I'm not staying with you," she hummed. "I can't live with a complete stranger, after all."

 

He mock growled and seized her sides in a tickle. Her giggles spread through the office as they wrestled and argued, but in the end, she agreed to stay, and in the end, he told her he would let her hear his accent later.

 

For a brief moment in time, all was right with the world.

 

But their bubble of seclusion wouldn't last forever.


	34. Out in the Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the lapse in updates. I was writing a Christmas story titled How to Save a Life. It's ten chapters and an epilogue and is complete if anyone wants to check it out.
> 
> Glad to be here with these characters again!!!
> 
> Also, apparently they call the tires "tyres," so, no, it's not a misspelling.

_After the fire drove out the sparrows,_

_All of the clouds hang like gallows,_

_Hey, are you listening? I cannot reach you,_

_I'm on the other side, trying to break through,_

_I can hear the sirens_

-Sirens, Fleurie

 

"You're fucking kidding me!"

 

Rey's eyes cracked open. It sounded like Ben was yelling. This was confirmed by a follow-up of, "Well, what the hell are we supposed to do?!"

 

Startled by the urgency in his voice, she sat up, her drowsiness evaporating like morning mist in the sunshine. Ben was pacing around the penthouse, his prowl reminding her vividly of a lion. This told her to stay away from him until he was ready to talk. In this sort of mood, he would snap at anyone.

 

She searched for her clothes. After the preliminaries from the day before, they'd fucked and fallen asleep in the nude. Not that this was unusual for Ben, but Rey wasn't quite used to it. She fished her panties off a chair but gathered the rest of her things into a pile. They were dirty. Filthy, if she was being truthful. The pit wasn't exactly the epitome of cleanliness.

 

"This is bullshit!"

 

Rey flinched a little. Ben's temper could wake the dead. At least they wouldn't get any noise complaints—no one would dare. That, and they were at the top of the hotel and alone. No one would really be bothered except for the person around him—herself. It hurt her ears. Would she tell him that? Not a chance in hell.

 

It seemed like he would be on the phone for a while, so she got fresh clothes and journeyed into the shower. She needed to wash the sex and the grime off. She'd meant to last night, but the adrenaline from the preliminaries had gone into being ravished by the prince.

 

Hoping he would be off the phone and maybe in a better temper by the time she got out, Rey stepped under the scalding hot water. Her shampoo was laid out beside Ben's, along with her other toiletries. It made her happy to see them there. They'd only been sharing a space for a few days, and so far, there hadn't been any hitches in the road.

 

She nearly jumped out of her skin a few minutes later when Ben savagely ripped open the door to the shower and joined her. Heart pounding, she got out of the stream, massaging her conditioner into her hair. Bloody _hell_ , she hadn't seen that happening.

 

Rey debated on whether or not to ask what was wrong. She thought perhaps not. He was scrubbing at his skin with his loofa hard enough that she half-expected blood to bloom. He tossed it aside and shoved his head under the water. Wordlessly, she handed him his shampoo.

 

Within two minutes, he was out of the shower, toweling his hair. Rey stared after him, impressed at his speed. She fought not to rush—he clearly still needed some time to himself before he was ready for any sort of conversation.

 

After another fifteen minutes, she determined it was safe to leave the heat of the bathroom, a towel around her hair and another around her body. She pulled the former off, using it to soak up most of the water. She'd been known in the past to just pull her hair up into a messy bun, efficient for working on cars. That was before she began dating a prince. Now, she was afraid to be caught without make-up, without her hair done up somehow, like in a French braid or a crown braid. Her fellow crew members had snickered at her. What could she do, though? They weren't in the limelight.

 

So far, she hadn't checked into what news there was of her. She figured she'd save it for Monday, after the races were over. She didn't want anything to distract her from her job. In the meantime, all she could do was be prepared.

 

 _I know it sounds sordid, but you'll be rewarded when at last I am given my dues and justice deliciously squared—be prepaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaared!_ she sang inwardly. She'd watched the _Lion King_ recently. Introducing Ben Solo to Disney films was a treat in itself. He'd teared up when Mufasa died and Simba was trying to wake him up.

 

To be fair, that movie had a very dark beginning. She'd teared up right beside him.

 

 _Enough loafing around_ , she thought, finishing with applying concealer and foundation and adding highlighter. The sad part of it all was that she'd had to watch make-up tutorials. Natural beauty would only get her so far with the paparazzi.

 

It was aggravating. She worked in a pit crew. Oil and sweating was part of the job. All the make-up would melt off before the day was over.

 

 _You knew what you were getting into_ , she reminded herself. She added only a light layer of eyeshadow, going for the smoky eyes that seemed simplistic but took layers of cosmetics. Blech.

 

Forgoing drying her hair entirely, she pulled it into a braid. Her arms were aching by the end of it. She wasn't used to styling her hair that way. It had required more tutorials.

 

She tugged on the clothes she'd wear under her jumpsuit and went to find her boyfriend. The term still made her blush. She hoped she got over that soon.

 

"What's the problem?" she asked Ben.

 

He was in the kitchen, cramming a banana into his mouth. She could practically see the cloud of outrage hanging over his head. This wasn't a conversation she wanted to have, but how could she avoid it? They were in a relationship—communication was key. That, and the fact that it was racing day. What had gone wrong?

 

Ben waited until he'd swallowed the banana and started slathering butter and jam on toast. They had the bare essentials for groceries. They wouldn't be here much longer, and they'd spent the last couple of days eating out.

 

"The crew is sick," he said darkly.

 

"Sick how?" she asked, helping herself to some of the toast he'd made for her.

 

"They got food poisoning," he spat. She didn't take offense—it wasn't aimed at her.

 

"Food poisoning?" she repeated. What the hell?

 

"They ate at some Mongolian place last night. Now they're all…" He gestured uselessly. "Fucked up. And can't be at the race. So Porsche is sending in their stand-by team, and you're going to be spotting today."

 

"Wait, what?" she sputtered, choking on toast.

 

"You'll be fine," he growled.

 

She glared. "I've never done it before."

 

"You've had the training," he countered.

 

"So why does that mean I have to do it?" she asked. There had to be another reason to put her in the tower. If Porsche was supplying its own team to the rescue, then the chief engineer should take that place, and she wasn't the chief.

 

"There's some concern," he muttered.

 

" _What_ concern?"

 

"Rellen—"

 

"That's the head of your security, right?" She had yet to see him. The man was a goddamned ninja.

 

"He's my only security. Or was. There's an increase of interest now that I'm dating you. He thinks the paps will be in the crowd today. If you're in the tower, no one can spot you."

 

"The only reason that would matter would be because it would take away publicity for you from the race—" She leaned back. "Ah."

 

She understood that. This was his career. When it came to racing, he had sponsorships and a whole slew of other things to deal with. Keeping her away from the paparazzi let that world stay separate. What she wasn't happy about was spotting. Yes, he was right—she had training in it. She was an engineer. But she hadn't _done_ it, and… and they were together now, and he was the driver, and that was so much more pressure—

 

"If something goes wrong…" she began.

 

"You won't be the only spotter up there. Other people will see the same things you do, or they'll catch things you miss. What pisses me off is the fact that the whole crew is fucked." He sighed and kicked at a cabinet, not enough to harm it. "I wanted my own team, not Porsche's. Now I don't have a choice."

 

Rey swallowed. She couldn't placate him. He didn't want to hear, "It'll be fine." This was his, for all intents and purposes, livelihood, and he was familiar with and counted on the crew he'd hired, including her. Porsche would be more than adequate, but it was a tenuous position for Ben. They had that agreement that Ben could keep his own so long as they ran things properly. This… did not look good for them.

 

"It's just food poisoning," she said.

 

"I _know that_."

 

"Right."

 

There was nothing to do now but to get going. It was a busy, busy day.

 

A busy, busy day that was already fucked six ways to Sunday.

 

Real shame that it _was_ Sunday.  

 

* * *

 

 

Rey wasn't used to being in the tower. The pit was different—the crew had mere seconds to replace tires, to replace _anything_ that was wrong. Everything was seamless. The way the cars were built these days allowed easier maneuvering for the mechanics. The pieces weren't as complicated. There was a light system for getting in and out of the pit.

 

Even an extra second could harm the driver, never mind if the driver and pit received a five to ten second penalty. Rey was used to this dance. The tower was a different world. She was surrounded by a plethora of people. Sponsors, other spotters, chief engineers…

 

Her hands shook as she put her headset on. There was still plenty of time before the race began. She took this opportunity to look over the circuit. Every detail was important. There were eighteen turns, each with minimum speeds and their own threat of dangers—a hairpin, in particular, and blind spots.

 

The sky was a bit overcast. She hoped it wouldn't rain.

 

"Rey?" Ben's voice crackled in her ear.

 

She fumbled with the mic. "Y-Yes?"

 

"Checking."

 

"Okay," she replied.

 

She wanted to be careful with their exchanges. The spectators had access to the channels and could hear every tidbit of conversation. If the paparazzi was really out there, that could be problematic.

 

Someone offered her a bottle of water. Instead of drinking it, she continued to survey the circuit, her fingers picking the label off. There were a few exchanges with the pit, but it was strange because she wasn't acquainted with most of them. Only a handful of their team of over twenty people had managed to _not_ get sick.

 

Her stomach knotted. Being in the pit was so much easier… Mindless.

 

"You're with Solo?"

 

She turned to the spotter who had asked the question. "Yeah."

 

He smirked, his eyes on the circuit. "His scathing comments have become legendary."

 

That was true.

 

"Who are you here for?" she asked.

 

"Dameron," he replied, and wasn't that the damnedest thing? "Charming, as usual."

 

"Yeah…" she said with a weak smile.

 

The stranger clapped her on the back. "Name's Oliver. You?"

 

"Ah—Rey," she replied. There was no point in hiding her identity.

 

"Looks like we might get a spot of rain, eh?"

 

"Yeah, it does. I was hoping it holds off." With over seventy laps and a two hour time limit so long as nothing happened, that might be more than enough time to avoid the weather. Despite what people thought, it didn't rain as much in Britain as it was claimed to.

 

"That'd be lucky." His brogue placed him from Scotland. It wasn't too deep—enough for him to be understood clearly.

 

"Yeah," she chuckled.

 

"Well, good luck with Solo," he said.

 

"You, too. With—Dameron."

 

 _Poe_ , she thought.

 

Yet another person to see down there. Another person to watch out for, though not as actively. She didn't love Poe. That didn't mean that she didn't care about him. She didn't want anything to happen to him.

 

She took a deep breath and blew it out.

 

 _Please let things go smoothly… please,_ she prayed.

 

The dangers seemed so much more real when she could see them.

 

* * *

 

 

"It's show time!" a voice announced.

 

Rey scurried to the window. The cars were lining up, practice over, tires warmed up. Ben held first place, Poe second. The usual—they flipped back and forth. No one was ever a match for them. Didn't mean someone couldn't try, though.

 

"Ben?" Rey called.

 

"Here," he said curtly.

 

The connection was still good. Excellent.

 

Her nerves hummed—her heart leapt.

 

Three…

 

Two…

 

One…

 

The sound of engines and tires was everywhere, including in Rey's ears from Ben's headset. He was off, Dameron hot on his arse.

 

Club Corner… Abbey Corner…

 

The laps were over quickly. The record was something close to a minute and thirty seconds. And in all that time, they were racing around turns sometimes at minimum speeds of 175 mph. Rey knew from research and watching Ben's old runs that the last few turns was where the racers struggled. So much braking.

 

For the first hour, there weren't any concerns. Rey dutifully told Ben about potential hazards, to which she'd receive a sarcastic response.

 

"I'm aware, I'm aware," he'd said more than once.

 

Crabby-arsed driver. She didn't take it personally.

 

And then…

 

"Experiencing a bit of lift," Ben reported. "Might be a problem with a rear wing."

 

"All right, let me talk to the pit," Rey replied. After a few seconds, she was back with Ben. "They said it's good to go for now. You'll make it to the next pit stop." Every team kept the pit stops to a minimum, as every second counted—could make or break a race—but Ben's tyres would be showing wear.

 

"Okay," he said shortly as he went into Luffield and the hairpin.

 

Rain began to fall with an abruptness that made everyone in the tower do their best not to curse. All hell was about to break loose. For now, it was mostly a light coat, but that could change in a heartbeat.

 

Drivers on the course grew cautious.

 

"There's a lot of rain on the horizon," Rey said. The horizon was indeed a gray sheet connecting the clouds to the ground.

 

"Noted."

 

Ten laps later, Ben grew more concerned. "This lift—"

 

"Come in on the next," she directed. "I wouldn't risk it with the rain." It would cost them precious seconds, but his safety was more important.

 

It was very fortunate, in the end, that he was experiencing problems with the car.

 

Because what happened next—

 

Poe shot past him, Antilles and Hedge in pursuit. Rey could sense Ben's frustration in the ragged breathing over the mic. The wall of rain hit the circuit—at a blind turn, Poe put on the brakes. Antilles was in second place, Hedge in first.

 

Antilles slid sideways, rubber screaming.

 

Poe hit him dead-on and went flying across the track in wild circles that ended with his car flipping entirely. He landed in a terrifying screech of metal, and everyone in the tower shouted.

 

"Brake!" Rey yelled. "Brake carefully! There was an accident—" She fought to keep from choking up. She still couldn't believe what had just happened. "Poe's… totaled. Antilles is blocking the track. Something happened, maybe the rain—"

 

The pace car came out, guiding the racers around. As per the rules, the drivers kept their positions. Their tyres stayed warm, but the speed had decreased significantly. It was just enough to give people time to clear out the track, to find out what had happened.

 

Reports from below flew in.

 

"Someone's car was leaking oil," Rey said. "It mixed with the rain and took Antilles out. Poe…" Her voice broke.

 

The red-and-yellow-striped flags were out at the flag stations.

 

But then everyone was ordered to return to the pit. They would have to halt the race while the track was attended to, as the drivers were checked out. Even when the debris was clear, they likely would keep everyone off the circuit until the rain had cleared a bit. The two hour limit stretched into four when bad weather got involved.

 

"Shit," Ben breathed. He was in the pit. "How bad is it?"

 

"Poe's not moving," she whispered. There was a knot in her throat that was proving difficult to speak around. "They're getting the oil and Antilles off, but… They're carrying Poe off on a stretcher."

 

Rey listened for a moment longer. "He's in critical condition, so he's out of the race. Antilles might be also. They're waiting for the rain to let up before they pull everyone back onto the track."

 

She kept seeing it in her mind, over and over, the way Poe's car had flipped, had crashed into the ground…

 

"Oh, God, I hope he lives," she whispered.

 

Oliver was gone.

 

"That could have been you," she said, barely keeping it together. "If your wing hadn't started acting up…"

 

It could have been Ben.

 

She covered her face with her hands.

 

The thought of _him_ in critical condition, being carried out like that…

 

A stranger clapped a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

 

"Someone's looking out for Solo," they said. "Take comfort in that."

 

"Yeah," she breathed.

 

Yeah…

 

And then she was running out of the tower and to their pit, uncaring of the torrential downpour that greeted her. Ben was standing near the track, frowning. A second later, and she was in his arms. He made a soft _oof_ of surprise, holding her trembling form close.

 

"It's okay," he breathed into her ear. "I'm fine. And we can go to the hospital after this."

 

She sniffled and tilted her head up. "Really?"

 

"Yeah," he said gruffly. "I hate that bastard, but I wouldn't have wished that on anyone."

 

"Okay," she squeaked. "Sorry—I know I'm supposed to be in the tower so the papar—"

 

"Don't be sorry," he said, tightening his embrace. "C'mere." He slid his hand around her head and placed it against his chest, giving the slightest of rocks. "It's okay. I'm safe. It's okay."

 

She squeezed closer, hiding her face in his jacket.

 

He was safe, she told herself. And they would go to see Poe afterward.

 

 _Please live_ , she thought fervently. _Please don't let him die._

Who was she praying for, Ben or Poe?

 

Both.

 

She was praying for both.


	35. To Grandmother's House We Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, guys! Shit's about to step up!

Rey couldn't afford to count down the minutes. Her attention had to be, at all times, focused on the driver on the other end of her headset. Ben Solo. She wouldn't let anything happen to him, not anything she could help. It meant putting Poe from her mind until she had the time to deal with it. Now was not that time.

 

The continuous sound of the tyres on the track had dulled into a mindless backdrop. Half an hour ago, the circuit had finally been cleared, along with the rain. Everyone had gone out with the pace car in their last positions, and then they'd rocketed off. The downside to Ben not being injured was that he was precious seconds behind in the race. But with Antilles and Poe taken out, it had been easier to gain the lead with Hedge.

 

As of now, Ben was in first place. The rear wing had been fixed, and he had nothing to hold him back. Once he'd made up the seconds he'd lost, he was barely more than a confident streak. Maybe because of what had happened, he was also talking more. Sort of.

 

"How much time left on the clock?" he asked now.

 

"Another half hour," she replied in as steady a voice as she could muster. She hadn't stopped trembling, from both the accident and the rain she'd soaked up. The people gathered around her were speaking nearly nonstop with their drivers.

 

But no one told Ben Solo what to do.

 

"Hedge is four seconds behind you," Rey said. "Darklighter is six. I think he's going to shoot for more around the corner." Which only a mad person would do, but there it was. "And… he did. He's growing reckless."

 

Biggs Darklighter overtook Hedge in another second. They were diving into another turn, each lined up behind Ben. The moment the turn was over, Darklighter put more on the pedal, eager to establish a distance between Ben and himself.

 

"He's going to get penalized if he keeps pulling moves like that," Rey said. Moves like endangering the lives of those on the track.

 

Ben didn't answer. He was busy putting on his own reckless show of speed. She wanted to yell at him, to tell him to be careful, given what had happened. But breaking his concentration like that would be dangerous itself. Not only that, but this was their life. Racing. He'd seen many accidents. This one they just knew together.

 

She never wanted to spot ever again.

 

It was one thing to know it was a possibility—it was another to be in a position to see it directly.

 

Ben won the race, and no one in the tower seemed all that surprised. Rey left without preamble, handing off her headset. A few people called after her, but she ignored them, single-minded. She needed to get down to where Ben was. They had someplace to go.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey watched the passing buildings through the tinted window of the car. Her elbow rested on the sill, and she was chewing idly at her thumbnail. She was worried about Poe. She'd tried texting around to get some kind of information, but no one knew anything yet. If it was bad enough that they were only letting family in—who had to travel across the ocean—then it was enough to frighten her.

 

But Ben could press for information. He'd told her so, and she believed him. She had no reason not to. The man was a damned prince.

 

He took her hand across the seat, wordless in his support. She was grateful for it, resting her forehead against the palm of her hand. Her stomach wouldn't settle, not until they were at the hospital and she knew what in hell was going on.

 

Ben's car dropped them off at the emergency room. They followed the signs to the intensive care unit, half-jogging because of Rey, hands clasped. She hadn't taken off her jumpsuit, and neither had he. The second they could leave the race, they had.

 

It was as Rey feared—no one could pass. No information could be given out. She left the desk, pushing her fingers into her hair, refusing to let the tears burning at her eyes out. Who knew when his family would arrive? They needed to know if Poe was going to live or not! _She_ did.

 

Ben touched her shoulder and left. She found a seat, burying her face in her hands like she had earlier. A page for a doctor spoke over the intercom, and the rush of stretchers wheeling over the tile was loud. There was a distant ding for an elevator.

 

 _The last words I said to him were so awful_ , Rey thought.

 

Yeah, Poe had been a dick, but—

 

She swallowed and tried to get a grip.

 

Ben returned a quarter of an hour later, gesturing for her to follow him through a set of doors, the kind that locked without an ID pass. A prince couldn't override laws about privacy, but he could grease someone's palm. She thought the latter had undoubtedly occurred.

 

She was half-right, half-wrong. Ben _had_ paid someone to let him back there, but Poe had been asking for her. They let her in alone, and she approached his bed slowly, her eyes wide. He was covered in bandages, and limbs had been set.

 

All she could think was he'd been well enough at some point to ask for her. That had to be something, right?

 

_Beep… beep… beep… beep…_

His eyes were closed. Rey examined all of the equipment he was hooked up to. Her eyes landed on his left hand, which was bruised a little, but otherwise unharmed. Her throat tight, she took it, and when she inhaled, it was with a sniffle. Tears lingered on her lashes again.

 

Poe made a soft sound. She snapped her head up, tears dripping off her cheeks. His lashes fluttered weakly. Her heart lifted. Was he coming awake?

 

No.

 

No, he'd only shifted.

 

 _Brain activity_ , she thought, clinging onto it. _I think._ She wasn't a medical professional.

 

Poe's doctor came into the room, his brow furrowed sternly.

 

"All right, Miss Kenobi. You'll have to leave now."

 

A nurse grabbed her by the shoulders, gently shepherding her out the door. Privacy curtains were pulled. Rey stared through the window, holding herself.

 

"Did you find anything out?" she asked Ben, who was leaning against the wall behind her.

 

"No," he said. She bowed her head, closing her eyes. "It was all I could do to get you in there."

 

"Thank you," she whispered.

 

She wasn't sure what to do at this point. They didn't have to be in Germany for a little over two weeks yet. That was plenty of time for his family to get there, for her to be able to find out what was wrong. The Damerons knew her.

 

But Ben…

 

"We have a problem," he sighed.

 

She turned to face him.

 

"I've… My mother's insisting I come home. I got the messages right after the race. My grandmother's taken ill. I—"

 

"Oh, my God," Rey breathed. "I—what do you want to—"

 

"I have to go," he said. "It's… my grandmother's… I'm… She's—"

 

He was attached to her, in a way he wasn't with the rest of his family.

 

"If you want to stay—" he began.

 

"What if I don't?" she interrupted. She couldn't let Ben go there alone. She knew just the idea of going was likely killing him. She sniffled once more, wiping at her eyes. "I can… I can have someone update me about Poe."

 

Ben hesitated. "…I don't want you to feel obligated—"

 

"No," Rey insisted firmly. "No. I want to go. I want to be there for you."

 

He eyed her uncertainly, rubbing his mouth. She let her shoulders draw straighter to show how serious she was.

 

"This isn't—" He sighed. "It's not just… coming with me. It's _coming with me_. To Alderaan. To the castle. It'll be impossible to keep out of the—"

 

"I _said_ I wanted to be with you. I said I knew what I was getting into. I mean… neither of us was thinking about—about going to Alderaan, but… Ben, you can't honestly think I'd stay here without you?" She took a step forward. "Do you—want me to?"

 

Oh, Christ. What if she was forcing this on him? That was entirely the opposite of what she intended.

 

"Of course, I want you to go," he said. "I… You're right. I have to trust you when you say you can handle it."

 

"Yes," Rey replied. "You do."

 

She wet her lips. "How soon do we have to leave?"


	36. Blast from the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna kill Poe, ya'll, lol.

 

London.

 

It had been some time since Rey had been here—not that she was having a chance to really glance around. Ben had a firm grip on her wrist as he tugged her from boutique to boutique. He'd said they had to get her a proper wardrobe before they went anywhere near the castle. She couldn't exactly refute this, but the prices… It made her uncomfortable, to think of him spending money on her like that.

 

She reminded herself that she shouldn't. He'd told her to get used to it.

 

They went from store to store, spending no less than a few thousand pounds at each. Ben would snap his fingers (which she found really rude and told him so), and a helpful salesperson would come over. Then he'd demand to outfit her in whatever was the latest style. All Rey could do was smile in what she hoped was a pleasant way.

 

After the clothes, in which she'd worn an outfit out of one boutique at Ben's insistence, it was time for accessories. Hats, jewelry, sunglasses, purses, shoes. Between each place, their bags were loaded into the car. Rey had noticed a couple of men scurrying about—one had returned with what had to be cosmetics.

 

 _This purse is a year's worth of rent,_ Rey thought faintly. Yet there it was, dangling by the crook of her elbow.

 

As of now, she was standing on four inch stilettoes and retraining herself on walking with them, but that had been after her mani and pedi. They were open-toed.

 

To go with the classy black heels was an equally black dress, off the shoulders with sleeves that went a little bit past her elbow, the hem a few inches above the knee. A matching black hat with a white bow completed the ensemble. Rey wasn't sure how it would look with her calves so exposed without tights or hose—they were muscular because of how in shape she was—but Ben assured her there was nothing to worry about. She was beautiful.

 

"Do you like that one?" Ben asked, pointing to the purse.

 

"I—yes?" Rey replied. Liking it and wanting to carry around something that expensive were two entirely different things. She was still amazed that she hadn't messed up the Valentino dress somehow. She wasn't known for her grace.

 

She caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. A salon had straightened her hair and pulled it back in an elegant clip. It left her neck exposed, the hat really illuminating this. And her glasses were what she had heard a few Americans refer to as "hater blockers." They had huge lenses.

 

Rey's head was whirling.

 

They spent the whole day shopping. Casual clothes, nice clothes, fancy event clothes, swim wear, _anything_ and everything. It was essentially an entirely new wardrobe. Rey wasn't sure if she should feel a little resentful at that—shouldn't she be able to keep _some_ of her things?

 

But then she thought of the tabloids and supposed she couldn't.

 

"You haven't picked out a single thing for yourself," Ben remarked. It was nearing dinner, and Rey was ravenous. They'd barely enjoyed their lunch before Ben was on the move again.

 

"Whatever is cheapest in here," Rey said. "That's what I want." She pointed to some paraphernalia under a glass display.

 

"That's a keychain," Ben replied blankly.

 

"It's a _cupcake_ keychain," she corrected him.

 

"It's three hundred dollars roughly."

 

She knew, and it pained her. "It's the cheapest thing I've seen all day."

 

"Is this always going to be an argument?" Ben folded his arms. "I told you—you have to get used to this. Don't be shy. Whatever you want, it's yours."

 

"But I _want_ this keychain," Rey insisted. "And I haven't complained this entire time, have I?"

 

"No," he muttered, "but the expression on your face said it all for you."

 

She wet her lips and fought for patience. "I'm getting used to it, all right? You have to give me a chance. It's not going to happen overnight." She found most of this quite excessive.

 

"Tell me something, then." Ben took her hand, turned it over. He drew his fingers over her palm. "There's not a _small_ part of you that's enjoying this?" He looked up at her from beneath his lashes, knowing how devastatingly handsome he was when he did that.

 

"Maybe," she hedged, narrowing her eyes. She couldn't keep the smile touching the corners of her mouth off her face. "But you know there's a color other than black, right?"

 

"Ben Solo, I thought that was you!"

 

Rey froze, her hand extended to the woman who had unlocked the giant cupcake keychain for her. But it wasn't the woman before her who had spoken. No, it was someone behind her, and so, slowly she turned, not knowing what to expect.

 

Tall, leggy blonde woman.

 

Tall, leggy blonde woman who was making sex eyes at Ben.

 

The real kicker?

 

She was so damned gorgeous, she belonged on the cover of a magazine. In fact, Rey had no doubt in her mind that this woman modeled.

 

"Elena," Ben said.

 

Elena batted her lashes, her blue eyes the color of the sky. The slight eyeliner around her eyes only accentuated this fact. "How long has it been?"

 

"Don't know," Ben said curtly. His hand wrapped around Rey's elbow. He tugged her to the cashier, where many of their imminent purchases were laid out in preparation.

 

Elena smiled sultrily, leaning against the counter, facing the prince. Rey wanted to punch her in the face. She stayed quiet, unsure of how Ben would respond to any interference from Rey's end. He could handle it himself.

 

That was when Elena put her hand on Ben's forearm. "I missed you," she half-sang.

 

Rey stepped between her boyfriend and the model. She braced a hand on the edge of the counter, smiling up at the blonde. The woman was so thin, she probably lived off celery and gum. She had bigger breasts than Rey, and she was infinitely more beautiful, but she was _not_ going to hit on Ben.

 

"You seem confused," Rey stated, removing her sunglasses with her free hand. She could feel Ben's chest at her back, he was so close. The cashier hovered awkwardly, uncertain of what to do. Rey couldn't blame her—she would have felt the same.

 

"Confused?" Elena echoed with a tight smile. "Whatever do you mean, dear?"

 

"What I _mean_ is that Ben Solo belongs to me and only me." Rey barely managed to keep the growl out of the words. A cordial tone was the best way to go. "I know the memo hasn't reached everyone yet, so I'll give you a pass this time."

 

Elena scoffed. Her eyes flitted to the man behind Rey. "Cute, Ben. Feisty and the complete opposite of me. And you belong to her? Funny. You told me you didn't belong to anyone."

 

"Things change," Ben said softly in that deadly way of his. It was a warning to back the hell off.

 

But, of course, Elena didn't get the message. That, or she chose to ignore it. "Things don't change _that_ much," she drawled with a confident smile. Her eyes shifted to Rey's. "Don't let him fool you. He only looks out for himself. What's that saying?" She twirled a strand of golden hair around her finger. "You can't teach an old dog new tricks?"

 

"You should go," Rey said with as much firmness as she could muster and still be taken seriously. She was well-aware of the fact that, while she remained grumpy by nature, she rarely looked menacing.

 

Elena ignored her. "And you've gotten the girl to speak for you, too. Sweet."

 

"Elena," Ben said, his voice now as cool as ice. "Rey can speak for herself. If it was up to me, you'd be on your ass on the street. So, make up your mind: go on your own, or I'll make you go."

 

The blonde _tsked_ , but she unpeeled herself from the counter. As she passed Rey, she knelt enough to whisper into her ear. "Nothing ever holds his attention for long, bitch. Enjoy it while it lasts."

 

Rey's fingers curled into a fist around the keychain.

 

The front door opened, letting in the sounds of the city. It swung shut, and all was quiet again except for the music playing overhead.

 

"What did she say to you?" Ben demanded.

 

"Nothing," Rey replied. Ben was ready to argue—his mouth was opening, anger on his face. Anger that they'd had to deal with it at all. But Rey didn't want to deal with it right then. "Look, I'll take this bag, too," she said, depositing another expensive purse on the counter. "In fact, I'll take one of each. And some of these clutches."

 

Rey walked to the wall with the saleswoman. "These," she said, gesturing to the top shelf. She hummed and reached over, grabbing more summer scarves. "Those gray boots in the window—do you have them in a size 42 or 43?"

 

"I can see, ma'am!" the saleswoman replied, eager to cut the tension in the air. Working on a commission also helped. "Anything else?"

 

"I'll take one in every color," Rey replied. "And those black booties over there."

 

The saleswoman—April, by her nametag—hustled off to get the shoes.

 

"You're trying to distract me," Ben said thunderously.

 

"I can see it's not working," Rey replied. "And it's not distracting you so much as appeasing you. You wanted me to get more involved with these purchases, right?"

 

"Tell me what she said," he demanded.

 

"Nothing I can't handle," Rey said. She waited until they were outside, packing the bags into the trunk with the others to ask what was really on her mind. "So, who was she? Your last fling?"

 

Ben pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, a fist on his hip.

 

"I know she wasn't your girlfriend. She made that very clear." Rey slipped into the car, and Ben wasn't far behind her. Both of them buckled up. "Maybe you should warn me about your flings before they parade themselves right in front of you."

 

"Are you angry?" Ben asked in disbelief.

 

"I'm not angry," Rey replied. She yanked off her hat and tugged on the straps of her heels. They were beginning to hurt. "All right, I'm a little angry."

 

"You knew what you—"

 

"Yes, I knew what I was getting into!" Rey snapped. "I—I'm not angry at _you_. I'm angry at her. She didn't care at all that we were clearly together. But then, maybe she doesn't know we're in a relationship. Or maybe she doesn't believe it. Either way, it's unacceptable."

 

"Well, what do you want me to—?"

 

"Tell me about them," Rey said.

 

Ben looked at her for a long moment. "No."

 

"Tell me about them, or I'll just assume the worst," Rey replied. "If you want this to work, we have to be honest with one another. I don't want to be surprised again. We can't appear weak as a unit."

 

It was perhaps this last statement, more than any other, that got through to him.

 

"You're right," he grumbled reluctantly. "But I don't want to hurt you, Rey."

 

"I know you've got the reputation of a man-whore," Rey said. "I don't need details. Just give me their names. I've got a good memory."

 

Ben hesitated.

 

"Fine," Rey said more sarcastically. "Tell me about the ones more inclined to call me a bitch."

 

"Is that what she said?!" Ben barked.

 

"Ben, _tell me_ ," Rey stressed. "I don't like being in the dark. You wouldn't, either."

 

"I don't want to know who you had sex with," Ben said in disgust. Not at her, just at the idea of it.

 

"The only person who would ever bother you is in the intensive care unit," Rey said flatly. "Why are you being like this? Why can't you tell me?"

Ben pressed a hand over his eyes.

 

"Secrets?" Rey asked.

 

"No secrets," he mumbled. "I don't… want you to look at me differently."

 

"I won't," she promised.

 

"You can't know that," he said with a bitter chuckle.

 

"Don't do this, Ben," she whispered. "We've made so much progress. These women aren't going to magically vanish. I'm about to be in the limelight. I _need_ to know. I need to not be caught unprepared."

 

Ben released a breath, his jaw clenched. He shook his head, then leaned back against the leather seat. "There were a… few that I tried to make it work with."

 

"And?"

 

"And I don't know," he sighed. "Fuck."

 

She didn't understand why he was being so reluctant. "Ben, why are you—?"

 

"I hate talking about my past," he said frankly. "I know—I know I need to. I just…" He looked up at her. "I care about you, Rey. More than I've ever cared about anything. I don't want to lose that."

 

Rey knew how much it must have cost for him to admit that. She took his hand in her own and lowered her head. "Everything is going to get dragged up by the media," she murmured. "Wouldn't you rather I know it from you?"

 

"Promise me," he said. "Promise me this won't break us."

 

"Ben, what did you expect when—?"

 

"I know!" he snapped, frustrated at himself. His fingers were trembling, and he took them back. "I know. I told you to know what you were going into. I knew this would come up eventually. I just hate dealing with it."

 

"You're making mountains out of molehills," she whispered. "Ben, there's nothing to fear. What is this really about?"

 

He swallowed so hard she could see his throat working.

 

"…It's not the girls, is it?" Rey breathed.

 

Ben gathered his composure. He sat up, his forearms on his thighs, his hands clasped between his knees. He couldn't bring himself to look at her again. His eyes remained steadfastly on the floor of the cab.

 

"It's not the girls," he said. "It's about… what might come out from them—maybe in retaliation to… seeing we're in a relationship, I don't know."

 

"What might come out?" she asked.

 

He looked her dead in the eye and let it all out in one go. "I'm a dark son of a bitch, Rey. And… my sex life…" He cleared his throat delicately. "Nothing ever ended well. At all. And I just realized how they might try to hurt you with—with what they know."

 

"What do they know?" Rey asked. What…?

 

"I've done some—super kinky shit. And—and when I was with a woman before… I'd get—I don't know, _obsessed_ for a time. When I was done, I was done. I cut them off."

 

Rey nodded slowly to show she was listening.

 

"So they may tell you lies—or they may come to the press with shit, I guess I'll have to have them shut up with money."

 

"Lies about your sex life?"

 

"About how I _was_ in my sex life," Ben said.

 

"What, are we talking _50 Shades of Gray_?" Rey asked tentatively.

 

" _50 Shades of Gray_ is nothing," Ben replied. "I liked to… hurt my partners. Sexually. Not—they liked it." He buried his face in his hands. "It wasn't anything anyone hadn't agreed to beforehand. Shit, I never cared about any of that before. If it had come out, it wouldn't have mattered. It's different now."

 

"If—if it comes out, we'll handle it," Rey said.

 

Ben glanced at her. "Did you not hear me? About my sex life?"

 

"I heard you," she replied. "But you aren't that way with me. Do you want to hurt me?"

 

"Not in that way," he whispered.

 

"How did you hurt them?"

 

"It depended on what they wanted. Some of them…" He couldn't bring himself to continue. Then he leaned into Rey's ear, and he whispered all sorts of things that he'd gotten up to. Once he was done, he pulled back. "This is why I'm worried you'll get—"

 

"If they're going to eat me up in the media," Rey said, "they're going to do it whether or not you led a kinky sex life. They're all models, mostly. And I'm… me. That right there is more than enough ammunition."

 

"Yes…" Ben said reluctantly.

 

"Look…" She took his hand again, holding it between both of hers. "A woman asked you to punch her during sex. You had safe words. You… To me, I suppose it seems like you—I don't know… Like you vented all of your negative feelings through this sort of sex with these sorts of women."

 

He was quiet.

 

"Do you feel those dark urges with me?"

 

"No," he said, looking her in the eye. "No. I—nothing… I would never hurt you. I don't _want_ to hurt you. I would never do anything you didn't want to do."

 

She squeezed his hand. "Then tell me their names. Tell me about this side of your life. You told me about your family—now tell me about this. I _promise_ … I don't look at you any differently." She tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "You didn't think this would come out?"

 

"I've just had so much on my mind," he admitted. "I honestly—I've been so happy. I didn't give it any thought."

 

"You've been happy?" Rey smiled. "Really?"

 

"Yes," he said, somewhat afraid. "Haven't you?"

 

"Yeah." She kissed him. "Yeah, I have. That's why I know this is going to work. And, Ben?"

 

He gave her a questioning raise of an eyebrow.

 

She placed her lips near his ear. "It's certainly not on _that_ level, but… I'm kinky, too."

 

She heard him suck in a breath.

 

Grinning, she got settled in her seat. "We've got to eat dinner. Maybe you can tell me more on the way to Alderaan?" Her grin softened into a smile. "We're in this together, okay?"

 

He drew her into a grateful kiss.

 

"Okay," he said.


	37. Wholesome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am in the middle of moving, and I was super busy over Christmas, so that's why this chapter is so late. I'm unsure when I'll be able to update again. Probably not too long. But just in case, making a note about it here. Short chapter because of it. Hope everyone had a good holiday!

 

It was one of the most uncomfortable feelings in the world.

 

"Are you okay?" Rey heard Ben ask from far away.

 

"Yeah," she listened to herself reply.

 

She wasn't.

 

She would be in moments, but right now, she wasn't.

 

No, right now, she wasn't tethered in her own skin.

 

"You're not," he said. But he averted his gaze to the window of his side of the car, for which she was eternally grateful.

 

Another minute passed, by her approximation, before she could breathe steadily again. She swallowed and placed a hand over her heart. She hadn't had that happen in a long time. It made her want to call her therapist, but that was unnecessary. There wasn't anything he could tell her that she hadn't heard before.

 

"Sorry," she said, shifting in her seat. "Are we close to the airport?"

 

"We'll be arriving in a few minutes." He cast her a worried glance. "What happened?"

 

"I—sometimes, when I'm really anxious, I have these… these almost out-of-body experiences. It's called—"

 

"Depersonalization?"

 

She wet her lips, surprised. "Yeah. Do you…?"

 

"Sometimes."

 

"It's been a while for me," she said. "At least six months. They come and go." They'd been coming and going for years, these tiny episodes where it felt as if she had been transported out of her own skin. And all she could do was observe, trapped in her body, watching events transpire, knowing she was talking, he was talking, but separated from it all.

 

It made the world narrow down to nothing.

 

It made life seem pointless.

 

The universe was so large. They were less than a speck of dust in the grand scheme of things. There were black holes that could swallow their galaxy and still have room for more. There were stars half the size of their solar system and larger. Earth was nothing. Humanity was a race of beings like ants in a colony. Everyone went to work—everyone went to bed. They followed their daily lives without once looking up to see what was beyond their little bubble. And Rey was perched on the outside of a box, staring down at them all.

 

But then her brain would shove her back inside her body properly, and the anxiety would be gone. The trouble was that she preferred the crushing tightness in her chest to the discomfort of depersonalization. However, it didn't seem as if she had any choice in the matter.

 

"A lot has happened," Ben stated. "Especially yesterday. Dameron—"

 

"Yeah," she said, clearing her throat. "But I think it's more that I'm headed to Alderaan with you."

 

He hesitated. "…Have you changed your mind?"

 

"No," she said, looking at him. When he didn't seem convinced, she grasped his hand. " _No_. I want to go. It's a big deal, that's all. I have… trouble with anxiety." Among other things. "It will settle. I promise."

 

* * *

 

 

Ben took in Rey's reaction as they walked toward his family's jet. He'd known his grandmother was ailing since the day before, but he hadn't been able to do anything about it with the race. That, and waiting for the jet to arrive from the castle.

 

Her eyes were so large.

 

It made him smile a little.

 

"Come on," he said, gesturing that she go first up the steps.

 

He was glad the trouble with Elena was behind them. For a moment, he'd feared she would be finished with him. It had been why he was so reluctant to discuss it. There were things in his past that he wasn't proud of. He didn't need them paraded before Rey. She deserved better.

 

But they'd… communicated. As much as he'd hated to talk about it, it was progress that he had. Even he knew that. It could have gone so much worse.

 

And what was that, about being kinky? It hounded his curiosity. He wanted to see how kinky she was, exactly—how far he could push the boundaries, what she'd let him do to her. Because there were all sorts of things he would love to do to her.

 

Their things were being loaded onto the jet, and he guided Rey to one of the comfortable leather chairs. She sat down, drinking everything in. He found himself feeling grateful, lucky—it wasn't the first time. It was still shocking that she wanted to be with him. He wondered if that would ever wear off.

 

"What do you think?" he asked.

 

"Impressive," she said honestly. "How long is the flight?"

 

"Mmm, around five hours or so. Are you hungry?" Despite her reassurances that she was okay after her anxiety episode in the car, he wanted to… care for her. What was the word? He couldn't think of it; it wasn't a regular part of his vocabulary.

 

"Not right now, but I will be." She smiled.

 

His heart did a familiar flip at the sight of it.

 

Comfort. That was it.

 

He was shit at it. He always had been. The few relationships he'd had, had crumbled into nothing more than ash. But he didn't want that with Rey. He wouldn't be able to stand it. Change was something he'd always resented, but that didn't mean it couldn't be good.

 

Ben sat across from her and then grasped her hands. He brought them to his lips as he closed his eyes. He kissed her knuckles, one by one, and then the insides of her wrists.

 

It was only a matter of time before he fucked up. But why not enjoy what they had while it lasted?

 

Because he knew he would never be enough for her. How could he? He was only half a person. At least, that's how he'd felt in the beginning. It was somewhat different now. She was filling in those places he thought unreachable from the rest of the world. She was doing it so well that it scared him still.

 

Christ, she was going to meet his parents.

 

He tugged on her hands, and then she was in his lap.

 

"I think I should be buckling up," she said, making no effort to move. "What are you thinking about?" She soothed the furrow between his brows. "You have your grumpy face on."

 

"Do I?" He kissed her. "Because I'm far from grumpy."

 

She giggled. "I suppose that's just your expression, then—permanently pissed off."

 

He nipped her lips in revenge, and she laughed harder. When he smiled, she traced his lips with utter fondness in her eyes.

 

"My stalker," she whispered.

 

"At your service," he murmured.

 

And he would be for as long as she would let him.


	38. The Ill-Mannered Father and Son

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sort of. Still moving. But I come with an update!

 

Alderaan was so beautiful, it stole the very breath from Rey's lungs. If it wasn't for what she knew about Ben's relations with his family, she never would have understood why he had stayed away for so long.

 

"This is amazing," she whispered.

 

The jet was nearly there—they'd descended from the clouds to see the land sprawling below. It was so verdant, similar to Ireland in its lushness. The castle, from what she could see of it thus far, was perched atop a hill. There was a town beneath it, mostly hidden by trees. As it was an island, waves crashed around the cliffs that protected it.

 

Ben was largely unimpressed. He didn't even glance up from his tablet.

 

"They know I'm coming with you, don't they?" Rey asked.

 

He grunted.

 

Nerves knotted in her stomach as she went back to viewing the wonderful scenery below. Now that she was here, she couldn't pretend everything was normal, that she was fine. She wasn't. She was not only meeting Ben's parents, she was meeting a king and a queen.

 

She bit just beneath a knuckle, worrying at her skin.

 

Oh, God.

 

She would not vomit, she would not vomit.

 

Rey lurched from her seat to find the lavatory. She leaned against the sink, wishing she could splash cold water over her face, but that would ruin the makeup. She stared down at the drain, her heart pounding so quickly, making her chest crushed with anxiety.

 

She could do this. She had to. She was here on a jet. There was nowhere else to go.

 

After a few minutes, she went back to her seat to buckle up. They were landing soon.

 

"You okay?" Ben asked. He'd put his tablet away and was strapped in himself.

 

"Sure," Rey replied with a weak smile.

 

"Well, I'm not," he said honestly, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I'm a total fucking wreck."

 

Rey giggled. It was one of those inappropriate ones, but Ben gave her a faint smile at the sound of it.

 

"I'll tell the truth, too, then," she said. "I'm also a wreck. What if your parents don't like me?"

 

"My parents are very easy-going… for the most part," Ben said, and Rey knew he was talking about the females in his family, such as his mother and grandmother. "I don't see why they wouldn't like you."

 

Rey bit her lip so she didn't say, "Because I'm a commoner." Ben had told her from the beginning that they didn't care about that. Not with his father being a smuggler and everything else that had led to Ben's birth.

 

"I've never brought anyone home," Ben went on. "My mother must be ecstatic."

 

And the pressure was mounting.

 

"Don't worry," he said, and she scoffed. He shook his head. "I guess I can't say that when I'm worried myself. Over different things."

 

Rey wanted to take her mind off the subject. "Why don't you go ahead and reveal your accent? I'll hear it from your mum soon."

 

"Then you don't need to hear it from me, do you?" he countered.

 

Damn. She'd walked right into that one.

 

* * *

 

 

From the jet, they were escorted off the tarmac and into a limousine. There was much fanfare over Ben's presence, though he ignored them entirely. Rey smiled at all of them after him, waving somewhat awkwardly. Ben could be so rude.

 

"We'll be going straight to the castle then, Your Highness," the driver said, and Rey's eyes widened.

 

"That's it!" she said in a hushed voice. "That's what it is!"

 

Rey tried to place the accent. It occupied her thoughts while they drove through the town and up the hill. There were security clearances along the way—many of them. People were in the streets, clamoring to see the prince, waving the flag of Alderaan. Ben closed his eyes. He was probably pretending he was anywhere else.

 

The accent was a hybrid. There was no other explanation for it. She'd never heard it before in her life. The trouble was prying the pieces of it apart to figure out which was which. Shame there wasn't a linguist at hand.

 

Then she snapped her fingers.

 

Ben gave her a startled look.

 

"It's Dutch and French!" she said, and his faint smile was back. "What a strange combination. Yet it's very pretty." She wondered how that had come to be. Alderaan didn't have a mother tongue. Perhaps it was from the different rulers? Or the location? "Are you going to let me hear it from you now?"

 

"No," he replied.

 

She tried not to pout. Her curiosity was killing her, and he knew it, too.

 

Ben linked their fingers and leaned into her ear, whispering, "Is it that important?"

 

Rey brightened even as she shivered from the close proximity. "It's lovely. Why do you hide it?"

 

"Because speaking like an American is easier," he said, continuing with his natural accent for the time being. "We have to enunciate clearly to be understood outside of Alderaan. It seemed like a waste of my time, so I changed it."

 

"How long did you have to practice?"

 

"A while." Ben tensed, and she followed his gaze. They'd arrived at the castle, the limo pulling into a courtyard. "Here we are," he muttered, his accent hidden once again. She hoped that wouldn't be the only time she heard it.

 

"So you know Dutch and French?" she asked.

 

"I know five different languages." Before he could say more, the driver had opened their door. Ben slid out first and then held out his hand to her to help her step down. Her heels met cobblestone.

 

Ben placed a hand on the small of her back, guiding her into the castle. Guards followed them, and the ones who didn't bowed in Ben's presence. He gave each of them a curt nod. Rey stared around at all the tapestries and corridors. The rooms they passed were spacious, each holding a different theme.

 

Green room, blue room, pink room…

 

Stone steps led everywhere.

 

It was a maze.

 

"Mother hasn't come to greet me," he murmured. "She must be with my grandmother." He opened a door, and they stepped into a very large, elaborate office. "I'll go and find her. I'm sure someone has told her by now we've arrived. Will you wait here?"

 

"Oh—ah… sure," Rey said, inwardly terrified at the thought of being left alone in the castle.

 

"I won't be long." He kissed her temple and left.

 

Lovely.

 

Trying to stay calm, Rey allowed herself to examine her surroundings. An ancient, mahogany grandfather clock stood next to floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the beautiful grounds. Delicate white curtains were pulled back for the view.

 

The desk in the center of the room was built sturdily in the way most things weren't anymore. It was covered in papers, but there wasn't a chaotic mess to be found. Everything was perfectly organized. Rey stayed away from them, not wanting to get into trouble for snooping more than she already was.

 

Bookshelves lined the walls. They had sliding ladders attached to them. These, Rey approached. Some of the books were new, the others old, their covers a tad threadbare. She saw titles that would fetch a fortune from the right buyer.

 

Rugs covered the stone. There was an empty hearth, its mantle holding pictures of the family. They were mostly of Ben with an older man. It must have been his grandfather. There were others, where he was a tiny babe held in his mother's arms. Rey picked one of the frames up, smiling. He looked so young and innocent, untouched by time or hardship.

 

"You must be Rey," a gravelly voice said.

 

Rey nearly jumped out of her skin. She fumbled with the frame, catching it before it could shatter on the floor. She replaced it and turned to see who had come into the room.

 

Ben's father. She recognized him from the pictures online.

 

His mouth was pulled to the side in a suspicious frown, his brows furrowed. Though his hair was mostly gray, and he wasn't as tall as his son, Rey could see the resemblance in both his expression and certain features of his face. For some reason, it calmed her.

 

"I am," she said slowly.

 

"Heard Ben was here, but a maid told me he'd left you in Leia's study."

 

This was the queen's study?

 

"I—sorry!" Rey stuttered, regretting having picked up that picture. "I—"

 

The king waved his hand. "Don't worry about it. Are you hungry? I can have the staff rummage something up."

 

"N-No, I'm fine," she said. "I ate on the way here."

 

He grunted.

 

"Your Highness, I—"

 

"Call me Han," Ben's father said gruffly. "I insist."

 

The resemblance was growing by the moment.

 

"Han," Rey said quietly. She kept her hands folded in front of her. She tried not to feel gangly and awkward. "I… I'm not sure what to do now."

 

He chuckled. "That's all right. Here, follow me. They'll want to be alone for a while. I heard you like cars?"

 

"I _love_ cars," she corrected him. "I work in Ben's pit crew."

 

The king's eyebrows rose, but he didn't comment on it. "Do you want to see my shop? Got some classics in there."

 

"My father has a 1964 Aston Martin DB5," Rey told him as they traversed the castle. She didn't bother trying to memorize their path. This place was too big. It would take more than one trip to get it down.

 

"That's a nice car," Han muttered. "Did you like it?"

 

"I helped him work on it," Rey said. "From the time I was a child. That's why I'm so interested in cars."

 

"Wait 'til you see what I got, then," her companion replied. "It's gonna blow your mind."

 

Excitement and anticipation stirred within Rey, and for the first time that day, she didn't feel pressure, she didn't feel nerves. She loved classic cars. She'd been to so many shows with her father. She couldn't wait to see what Han had. Being a king, his collection must have been exceptional.

 

"Great," she said.

 

She didn't see Ben lurking in the shadows, having stumbled across them in his search to see where Rey had gone off to. If she had, his deep frown would have stopped her in her tracks.

 

Han was the enemy, and she'd already made friends with him.

 

But Rey remained oblivious, leaving Ben to sigh and slump against the wall. He closed his eyes and tried to tell himself it was all right, that it didn't mean anything. His father had charisma. He wanted his parents to like Rey. This was a good thing.

 

So why did his heart sting with the sense of betrayal?

 

 _You're being ridiculous_ , he thought.

 

He wanted to take Rey, hide her away from the world. She was _his_. He didn't want to share her, not with anyone. And he didn't really appreciate his father stealing her away.

 

_You're being ridiculous!_

 

Yet there he was, stalking her, an unnoticed shadow.

 

Han vanished around a corner, and Ben was met with a surprise when he followed and nearly ran into Rey.

 

She folded her arms, and up ahead, his father paused. Seeing that his son was there, Han nodded his head shortly in some sort of greeting. Ben nodded back in the same way.

 

"We're going to look at his cars," Rey said. She lowered her voice so she wouldn't be overheard. "Now stop skulking about. Come with us."

 

He wanted to say no. He hated spending time with his father—abhorred it. But he couldn't leave Rey alone with him. He didn't have it in him.

 

"You don't have to," she whispered. "I don't have to."

 

"No," he said. "No. We'll go."

 

And, hopefully, he wouldn't want to murder his father in the interim. Maybe Han would share the same sentiment.

 

But he knew that was highly unlikely. He hated his father almost as much as his father hated him.


	39. Getting Acquainted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support! <3

The tension was palpable.

 

It was so palpable that Ben left in what could only be described as a storm of suppressed emotion.

 

Rey started to go after him but was stopped by a, "I NEED TO BE ALONE!" She flinched, taken aback by the yelling. She'd ask what had gotten his knickers in a twist, but she already knew: he couldn't stand another second in the presence of his father.

 

 _We just got to the shop_ , she thought.

 

"He said the queen mother was ill," Rey said to Han. "I'm sure he's stressed about it. He really loves her."

 

They both knew that wasn't what had caused the fit of rage.

 

"Leia's right," Han said in that gravelly voice. "He does sound like me when he's yelling." He was running his fingertips gently over a…

 

Holy _shite_!

 

"That's a Ferrari 250 GTO Berlinetta!" Rey gasped. "That's worth—" She tried to remember. "I know it set a record a few years ago when someone sold theirs." Right. For 32.5 million Euros, and she wasn't going to say that out loud.

 

"It was my father-in-law's," Han said with a faint smile. "He enjoyed cars as much as I did. It was the only thing we had in common." He sighed. "He was always closer with Ben."

 

"…Do you really resent him?" Rey knew she shouldn't have asked—shouldn't have tried to get in the middle of it. But she hated that Ben always looked so sad when he talked about his family. She remembered the day at the café when he'd told her most everything about them.

 

Including how he'd accidentally shot Han in an attempt to kill himself.

 

Han busied himself with finding a polishing cloth. "It's complicated."

 

Rey nodded, disappointment curling through her. She'd hoped—but it was none of her business.

 

"But… I do love him. Not that he believes me." Han furrowed his brows at her. "You always this nosey?"

 

"I—I just… care for him. Deeply," Rey replied. "He really did not want to come back. He did so for his grandmother. It took everything he had. Maybe I am nosey… but it's because I'm on his side. Someone should be."

 

Han was quiet, rolling the cloth through his fingers.

 

Rey had totally killed the moment. She knew it. What she didn't know was how to get back through the castle.

 

"Will you lead me to him?" she asked. "Because despite what he said, he doesn't want to be alone. And I have no idea how to find him. This place is enormous."

 

A chuckle slipped past Han's lips again. "You're something else. Come on." He put the cloth away and gestured to Rey. "Though you realize I don't know where the hell he is, right?"

 

"Then that makes two of us," Rey replied. "We can learn together."

 

"You really are tenacious, aren't you?"

 

She grinned. "I do try."

 

"Well, it's successful," he grumbled. Then he snorted with a soft smile. It spread into a roughish grin. "I suppose I should welcome you to the family, then."

 

Rey choked. "W-What?" Had she heard him correctly? Surely—

 

"After all, Ben never brings anyone home." The king shrugged. "Probably means he's serious about it. And he's never been very patient, so the proposal will be any day now."

 

Rey's heart was pounding so hard, and she couldn't breathe—

 

World.

 

Narrowing.

 

Down.

 

To nothing.

 

Han's grin only grew.

 

"You're joking," Rey said with some relief. "Well done. Touché. I will pull back on my protectiveness."

 

Engaged to Ben? She couldn't wrap her mind around that. Not yet. It was way too soon. They were barely understanding the relationship. They couldn't—not yet. That was an unfair trick of his father. She'd gotten the message, though.

 

Han was laughing.

 

"Well, you shouldn't _gloat_ ," Rey said, narrowing her eyes.

 

"You looked so panicked. And that tells me everything I need to know." He patted her on the back.

 

"What do you mean?" Rey asked.

 

"If you were using Ben, you wouldn't have had _that_ reaction," Han reasoned.

 

Rey was quiet, rolling his words over in her mind. She came to the conclusion that he was correct. Someone who had been using Ben would have been _thrilled_ at the prospect of impending marriage. All Rey could think about was how soon that was, and how Ben hadn't even exchanged the typical, "I love you," with her.

 

Her heart flipped.

 

 _Uh-oh_.

 

She shoved that feeling down—way, way down. It had no place here. It would ruin everything, and _that_ was something she was desperately trying to avoid.

 

Han was chuckling again.

 

"What?" Rey asked somewhat defensively.

 

"Nothing," he said. "I was beginning to think I'd never say this, but you're suited for Ben."

 

"And why is that?"

 

"Heh. I think you know. You're bright."

 

Rey decided a change in subject was best. "How long did it take you to memorize the castle?"

 

"Longer than I'll ever admit," he grumbled. "Longer than I'll ever admit…"

 

* * *

 

 

A very, _very_ hairy man was waiting for them back at the study. Han asked if Ben had returned to Leia and received a grunt in return. Then Sir Hairy turned and started off without them, presumably to guide them to the rest of the family.

 

"What's his name?" Rey asked softly, because Sir Hairy was _intimidating_.

 

"Chewie," Han replied, and at her look, he smirked a bit. "You don't wanna know."

 

Perhaps she didn't.

 

They entered a heretofore (to Rey) unexplored wing of the castle, one that was more… lively, somehow, than the rest of the place. It likely had something to do with the fact that it was the royal family's wing. Brighter, more unusual flowers were here, as well, signaling someone's personal taste.

 

Chewie disappeared inside a set of rooms and then returned. He clasped his hands before him in a typical bodyguard fashion and nodded his head. Rey stared at his epic beard—very well kept—he probably even oiled that thing—on the way after Han.

 

"You must be Rey! Come in, come in!"

 

Rey hesitated. Han shrugged one shoulder, silently telling her to go inside.

 

Rey took a deep breath.

 

Things were happening so quickly now that she was here, but why had she expected it to go otherwise? To keep her sanity intact, so that she didn't lose her mind with nerves? All she could do was go along with the rolling stone. Things—some things currently beyond her comprehension—had already been set in place. No point in not following it down the rabbit hole.

 

"All right, dear, let's have a look at you." A woman abruptly had her hands around Rey's arms, spaced far enough back to take in what Rey was wearing. "Completely different from his usual type. That's promising."

 

"But I thought he never took anyone home—"

 

"I'm still capable of reading the news, dear." Who must have been Ben's mum, Leia, smiled at her, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. Those eyes had laugh lines around them. Her hair was mostly silver, but still thick and silky, carrying hints of brown. Her eyes were just as brown.

 

Ben got his looks from her, too. Those eyes—that jawline and chin.

 

The queen was wearing a comfortable, fashionable dress. Gold earrings adorned her ears, and her hands had a few slender, tasteful rings on select fingers. Her wedding band could have possibly made someone lose an eye if she wanted to use it as a weapon, it was so grand.

 

Not knowing what to do, Rey curtsied. It was likely very terrible—she heard Han smother a laugh—but Queen Leia's presence was somewhat intimidating, and Rey felt at least a measure of formality was required. Han hadn't given her the chance.

 

Leia nodded her head in acknowledgement before gesturing that she rise.

 

"Needs some work," she said, but the words were warm. "My son is with his grandmother. Do you mind if we take tea in here?"

 

Take… tea…?

 

"Ah—of course," Rey said. "I would be delighted."

 

Leia nodded at a maid Rey hadn't noticed in her anxiety. They moved over to a circular table near the windows of the sitting room. Sunlight filtered in merrily, playing over the elaborate tablecloth. Leia took her chair first, and when Rey settled on her seat, she was impressed by how comfortable it was. It had the appearance of a very comfortable antique chair.

 

Once they were settled, Rey voiced what was on her mind. Ben wasn't around, and she had to ask _someone_. "Your Majesty—"

 

"Please. Call me Leia."

 

Rey hesitated. Why was everyone—bloody _royalty_ —being so familiar with her?

 

Leia must have read her thoughts—that, or seen it in her eyes. "My son has never been in love before. I think the formalities will be too stifling, don't you think?"

 

Rey was choking on air all over again. "He's not in love with me—"

 

"I think these two are delusional." Han, who hadn't left yet, rubbed at the whiskers on his jaw. "All right. I'm going back into my study. Send Chewie if you need me." He bent to give Leia a cursory kiss and was gone.

 

Leia's warm eyes twinkled at her.

 

Warm, knowing eyes.

 

"We're not… in love…" Rey's face was stained scarlet. She stared down at her lap, where her hands were curled into loose fists.

 

"If you say so."

 

"Please—" Rey squeezed her eyes shut. "Please don't—say that to Ben. If I might—ask that of you."

 

"I have no intention of doing so," Ben's mother said on the demure side. "Will you try the tea? It's a special blend from here in Alderaan." Her accent was very beautiful, a stark contrast to Han's American one.

 

Rey reached for a teacup, which had had steaming liquid poured into it.

 

"And try the biscuits?" Leia slid the plate over to her. "They're very good. Cook made them because she knew Ben was coming home. They're his favorite."

 

Rey realized that she was sweating a bit—the small of her back was damp. Her fingers had a fine tremor running through them as she picked up a cookie. She couldn't place what sort it was. One of those mystery recipes.

 

It was soft when she bit into it. She nodded approvingly as she chewed.

 

Leia's smile widened. "Ben will be with my mother for a while." She leaned forward a little conspiratorially. "Now what stories do you want to hear about him?"

 

"What do you mean?" Rey tilted her head and took another bite of her biscuit.

 

"You keep looking to the pictures."

 

If possible, Rey's blush deepened.

 

"I can tell you everything you want to know," Leia whispered.

 

Rey knew Ben would murder her if he knew. "I'm not sure—"

 

"Once upon a time, Ben was so determined to get free of his crib that he _flung_ himself over the side of it."

 

Rey gasped.

 

"Fortunately, he had plenty of stuffed animals beneath the crib to cushion his fall."

 

"I'm still not sure—"

 

Leia's grin showed teeth. "He still has those stuffed animals."

 

Rey grinned back. "Do continue."


	40. Wise Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love coming back to school and it's crammed with homework, and my brain is fried from two weeks of vacation. So it's a bitch getting back into the groove, bah.

 

"Grandmother…" Ben let his accent drop as he sat at her side on her bed and clasped her hand. She was so tiny—her hands were so tiny. Everything about her was tiny. She didn't even come up to Ben's shoulder when she was standing. "How are you feeling?"

 

Padmé was propped up against many, many pillows. Ben knew from experience exactly how comfortable they were. She looked young for her age; her hair was still mostly brown, with silver streaks here and there, and the wrinkles on her face were at a minimum. It had nothing to do with lotions, with skincare.

 

But because she was ill, she was pale, clammy. Ben pressed the back of his hand to her forehead—no fever. He exhaled a bit with relief, earning a smile.

 

"Don't worry, Ben," she told him. "I'm all right."

 

"Well, clearly that's not true," he returned. "Or else I wouldn't be here."

 

"You wouldn't come just to see your favorite grandmother?"

 

It was an old joke. Padmé was, of course, his only grandmother. Ben's father was an orphan.

 

"You've grown," she observed.

 

He scoffed, but without any real derision behind it. "I'm almost thirty. I stopped growing years ago."

 

She squeezed his hand. "That's not what I mean."

 

Ben looked away. Even with his grandmother, whom he was closest to, this was not a discussion he wanted to have. Ever. It would leave him open—vulnerable, exposed. He wasn't sure if he could bear it. He was inviting all sorts of new things into his life already.

 

He hated being in this castle. It was making his skin crawl.

 

Too many bad memories. Not enough good ones.

 

"Is it her?" Padmé asked in a thin voice.

 

"Is it who?" Ben replied, pretending ignorance. He found the tapestry on the far wall vey fascinating to stare at. Anything was better than meeting his grandmother's sharp, knowing eyes. If she hadn't been ailing, he would have thought coming back here was a bad idea.

 

Hell, coming back here _was_ a bad idea.

 

His grandmother was lucky he was so devoted to her. He'd thought the only way anyone would get him to come back here would be in a casket. Or if Padmé or his mother were in a casket. See, already his thoughts were growing darker by the moment.

 

He hated it here!

 

"Leia told me about her," Padmé said. "The girl who comes from nothing."

 

"She may come from nothing, but she isn't _nothing_!" Ben snapped. "Not to me." Then he wet his lips and looked over at her, his arms resting on his thighs. He'd never been disrespectful to his grandmother before, not outright.

 

But Padmé was smiling, her eyes crinkled. "You've never defended anyone before. You must really love her."

 

The world narrowed down to very tiny pieces.

 

"Oh, Ben," Padmé sighed. "Still?"

 

Ben stood. "I should let you get some rest."

 

"Please don't go, dear," his grandmother begged, clutching his hand in a staunch refusal to let it go. "We don't have to talk about it, and even if we do, it would stay just between us. I've never told any of your secrets to a single soul."

 

That was true.

 

Padmé was incredibly good at keeping secrets.

 

"There's a light in your eyes," she whispered. "I haven't seen it since before your grandfather passed."

 

"So I'm dead and empty inside?" He laughed harshly.

 

"No," she said. "You're lonely."

 

Ben bowed his head.

 

"I'm not dying… but I don't know how much longer I'll be in this world. And before I go, I want to see you _happy_." She tugged on his hand in an attempt to make him look at her. It didn't work. "I want you to experience love. It's the greatest force in the universe."

 

"If it's such a great force, then why does everything go to shit?" he muttered.

 

"Don't use that language," she said softly. "And some people are broken. Do you know the saying, by Barbara Bloom?"

 

"You'll have to refresh my memory," he told her, and he sat on the bed again, watching her.

 

"In Japan, when pottery breaks—"

 

He rolled his eyes. "They fill the cracks with gold. Yeah."

 

"But 'they believe that when something's suffered damage and has a history it becomes more beautiful.' It can be mended. _You_ can be mended. It doesn't matter about anyone else. It doesn't matter about your father. If this girl sees you for who you are, and she wants to put the pieces back together, then she _loves_ you, Ben. And there's nothing greater in this world than being loved like that."

 

He frowned.

 

"To be accepted for yourself… with your flaws…" Her smile softened, even as her breathing grew ragged. She was quickly tiring out, and he felt sorry for it. "I know it must be scary. But don't let it chase you away."

 

Ben climbed carefully on the bed until he was on the other side and could rest beside her. He snugged an arm carefully around her and laid his cheek against her hair. It was similar to the way she'd held him as a child.

 

"You'll try for me, won't you…?" she whispered as she fell asleep.

 

He swallowed, contemplating her words. He _was_ trying. He knew he was mending—he knew Rey was helping. He knew that.

 

He knew…

 

That…

 

* * *

 

 

Ben leaned against the threshold of the door to Rey's sitting room and watched her as she flitted about. Her things had been unpacked for her, but she was moving them to locations she was more comfortable with. That, and snooping—if it could really be considered "snooping" when it was your own set of rooms.

 

Five minutes passed, and she still hadn't noticed him. Her face was red, her manner flustered. Why? Getting used to being in the castle?

 

He cleared his throat.

 

Rey twisted and slammed her shin into the coffee table.

 

Curses ensued.

 

"Bloody—!"

 

"Should watch where you walk," he said, not moving from his position.

 

She gave him a very dirty expression and then told him where he could shove it with a very colorful vocabulary. He was impressed enough that his eyebrows rose. He couldn't blame her, though. That'd be a nasty bruise.

 

He exhaled. "How are you doing? Sorry I was away for so long. I was with my grandmother."

 

"Yeah, I know," she said as she rubbed the sore spot on her shin. She was wincing. "How is she?"

 

"Better than I expected. I think it's mostly a bad cold. Mom tricked me into coming home." It was annoying. The racing season was upon them. He needed to be studying his past races as much as possible—needed to be in the shop, working with his crew, performing the proper modifications on his car.

 

Instead he was here, in the land of the dead.

 

Rey pursed her lips. She had that look on her face like she wanted to question him and had decided against it. He didn't push her on it. He didn't want to be questioned.

 

Though he was grateful to have seen his grandmother.

 

"I knew they'd give us separate rooms," Rey said, lowering her leg. Her grin was sheepish. "But, somehow, it still came as a surprise. How am I supposed to shag your brains out when you're clear across the castle? I'll be _seen_." She wrinkled her nose.

 

Smirking, he entered the sitting room and bypassed it to get to the bedroom. Curious, she stopped what she was doing to follow him. He tapped on a door, then opened it, where it led into his own bedroom.

 

Rey's mouth hung open. "But—"

 

"The door was there the entire time," Ben said dryly. "And you didn't notice?"

 

"I thought it went somewhere else!" she harrumphed. She crossed her arms, feet spread like she was ready for battle. He knew that look well. It'd been some time since he'd seen it. "I didn't want to go somewhere I wasn't supposed to!"

 

"Since when has that stopped you?" he retorted.

 

"Ben Solo!" she steamed, and she proceeded to barrage him with more insults that he countered with sly remarks at every turn. He'd missed this. Not the venom—no, this wasn't toxic at all. It lacked that venom it had originally carried. In its place was fondness.

 

His grandmother was sappy as shit. No greater force in the universe as love?

 

But as he looked at Rey, he…

 

"So I take it you want to sleep in my bed?" he asked in the middle of her tirade.

 

She grabbed a fluffy pillow and tossed it at him. "No!"

 

"Hmmm," he said, dodging it. "I'm not sure I believe you."

 

She dissolved into giggles, and a smile spread slowly along his lips.

 

Rey…

 

When had she become his everything?


	41. Suggestion After Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. School be cray. But the end of this chap gonna get some peeps excited!

 

_Sitrine: How are things going?_

_Sitrine: Hullo???_

_Sitrine: Rey!_

_Sitrine: Rey, don't ignore me!_

_Sitrine: Reeeeeeeeey!_

_Sitrine: REY!_

_Sitrine: REY!_

_Sitrine: REY!_

_Sitrine: REY!_

_Me: For the love of God, what?!_

_Sitrine: Answer me, I'm feeling very left out._

_Me: I am busy. I will get in touch with you later._

_Sitrine: Promise?_

_Me: Promise._

_Sitrine: Because I don't want a lie to make me shut up._

Rey decided not to bother with answering that.

 

* * *

 

 

Just because he'd pointed it out, Rey decided she'd later make _her_ point by _not_ going into his bedroom after dinner. Dinner, which was a quiet affair in her sitting room. She'd expected fancy food and was been surprised and delighted with half of her favorites and half of Ben's. The cook must have been have trying to please Ben. That, or he'd flat-out told them what to prepare.

 

The latter was much more likely.

 

"You don't want to eat with the family, I take it?" she asked. A table had been set up with fancy plates, silverware, and the entire lot. Even a delicate tablecloth that Rey was terrified she would spill something on.

 

"It's not common for any of us to eat together except my mother and grandmother," Ben replied.

 

Rey didn't ask how Ben knew about her favorite foods. The man had spent a good deal of time stalking her, after all.

 

"I forgot how good Cook's meals were," Ben said, cutting into his steak. His voice turned wry. "How are you liking the castle?"

 

"A lot," Rey said honestly. "I take it you're not?"

 

"I hate this place," he muttered. "That will never change."

 

* * *

 

 

Rey looked at the spread of "pajamas" on her bed that she'd pulled from her dresser. It was mostly lingerie. And it wasn't that she minded lingerie; it was that it didn't particularly suit her, in her opinion. The pieces were beautiful, though. Maybe they would transform a tomboy like her like all the rest had.

 

She pulled her damp hair into a loose knot at the base of her neck after changing. Her gown came to mid-thigh, the material a little thick to protect against the cold. It was fuchsia-colored, with black trim and straps. A thin robe—for show, she was sure—went over it, tied around her. So she was a bit of a prude—she didn't want her knockers on display.

 

The bathroom had been wonderful. Marble floors, marble tub, marble shower, marble sinks. The new hair product Ben had purchased for her didn't look incredibly out of place as it would have otherwise. The jet on the showerhead had been perfect in working out some of the knots of tension in her shoulders.

 

She supposed she'd get a grand tour of the castle tomorrow. Ben certainly wasn't up for it now, as he was with his grandmother again.

 

Rey tucked herself under the blankets, groaning as she slid onto the mattress. Holy Christ. She didn't think she'd ever be able to sleep anywhere comfortably again after this. It was like resting on clouds. The pillows were just as soft. She'd be asleep in no time at all.

 

And she was.

 

* * *

 

 

 _"It's all right to love, Rey."_ Her father smiled at her. He'd followed her gaze to where it was observing Poe. Poe, who was laughing across the room, holding a glass of champagne as he spoke with some of Ben Kenobi's colleagues.

 

 _"I know that."_ Rey took a long drink of her own champagne, her eyes never leaving her… whatever Poe was to her. She had yet to decide. He wanted to be together, but—but she… _"But I don't think I should love someone just because they love me."_

Her father sighed and stroked his beard. It was his party that was being thrown, one to celebrate his newest book. He'd been swarmed by his admirers for some time until he broke away to speak with his daughter. Now Rey was rather hoping he'd return to his adoring fans. She loved her father, but this was not a discussion she wanted to have with him.

 

It was bad enough that her father was a psychiatrist, and that Rey saw a separate one.

 

_"I wonder…"_

_"Wonder what?"_ Rey's sip of her champagne was a tad more discreet this time around.

_"I wonder if you're afraid to let him in. To let anyone in."_

Rey rolled her eyes.

 

The professor smiled faintly and tucked a wayward strand of her hair behind her ear. _"I'm not saying you have to love Poe Dameron."_ He leaned in and fondly kissed her temple. _"But before I die, I want to know that you're not alone, hm?"_

 

She frowned up at him.

 

_"Do you think you're invisible, darling? That no one can see how lonely you are?"_

_"Do you think I can't see how lonely you are?"_ she countered. She put her empty glass on the nearby table. _"I'm grown now, Father. I'm not around anymore. What about you? Who will you love?"_

_"Rey!"_ Poe called. His arm snagged around her waist, and he delivered a cheerful _"mwah!"_ of a kiss to her lips. His cheeks were flushed. _"Let's dance!"_

 

* * *

 

 

Rey's lashes fluttered open.

 

She checked her phone. It was a little after one in the morning.

 

It felt like it was late in the afternoon.

 

Annoyed at her slight headache, she sighed and sat up. She always got them after dreams about her father—headaches. The irony was not lost on her that he worked so hard with the mind. She only wished she knew what the true reason was behind them.

 

Maybe, even in the depths of slumber, those conversations were uncomfortable?

 

So much talk about love lately…

 

Was it that important? To put a label on what she had with Ben?

 

Wasn't it enough that they wanted to be together, to make this work?

 

Rey grabbed her phone and tapped the top of it against her chin while she thought. She bit her lip, tilting her head. Before she could lose courage, she pulled up the screen and thumbed to Google. She typed in Ben's name and then went to the news section. Several articles immediately popped up, most of them, of course, gossip rags.

 

But what were they saying about her?

 

 _Mystery woman_ were the two words to pop up the most.

 

The majority of those who cared were curious so far. A small section who seemed excessively hateful wanted her to "go die" and many other similarly awful things. Even knowing to pay them no mind, the words stung, but not as badly as those who speculated—the ones who were against Ben, and who would laugh at anyone he was with, who was stupid enough to be spun into his web.

 

All anyone could find on her so far was that she worked in Ben's pit crew, and that she was the daughter of esteemed psychological author and professor Ben Kenobi. From there, it'd be easy to gather intel on where she went to school and the like… but so far, they had nothing personal.

 

She glanced at the time again.

 

Why had she decided not to go see Ben again?

 

Principle?

 

At the moment, principle seemed ridiculous.

 

She looked at where the door connecting their bedrooms was.

 

Wetting her lips, she pushed her covers back and went to knock. It was just as her knuckles were lifting to the mahogany that—

 

"Rey?"

 

She tried not to jump. She didn't succeed very well. But when she turned, it was Ben, and all the fear left her. He tilted his head at her, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. She flushed as his eyes slowly raked down her body. She'd forgotten about her nightie.

 

"I came to ask if you wanted to go for a ride."

 

Rey noticed he was still dressed. It was easier to focus on that than the fact that all the hairs on her body were standing on end and that her nipples were pressing against the thin fabric of the nightie. She didn't know what it was about Ben that could turn her on with so little effort.

 

"A ride?" she asked, her throat dry.

 

His smile spread slightly, and he came to stand in front of her. His lips lowered to her ear just as his hand slipped beneath the hem of her lingerie. Hot fingertips traced their way teasingly up her thigh until they cupped her dampening panties. Shivers broke down her spine, and his teeth sank into the lobe of her ear.

 

"Yeah," he breathed. His fingers were stroking her through her panties, and her breath shuddered from her. "I wanna fuck you on the hood of my car. What do you say?"

 

It took a few tries to find her voice.

 

"Only if I get to drive," she managed to whisper.

 

He grinned against her ear.

 

"Deal."


	42. Who You Belong To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, but I preferred quality over anything rushed.

 

 

 

 

 

The hood was nearly uncomfortably warm against her back, but not enough to distract her from Ben's lips on her neck. Rey didn't think anything could ever do that. At least, not while she was so aroused, which happened around him often enough for it to nearly be a problem.

 

They were on the side of the road near a cliffside, the ocean below lit by the moon. She could hear the waves crashing against the rocks. Ben had assured her that no one would find them here, that it was a road rarely used, leading deep into the country. All Rey had to go on was his word, and that was enough for her.

 

"So," he growled against her ear. "I have you here."

 

"Yeah." Her breath stuttered. "Now what are you going to do with me?"

 

He gripped her wrists and pinned them above her head.

 

"That depends on you, I think." The growl rumbled into a purr. He ended it with a nuzzle into her ear, along the edge of her jaw. He wanted her with everything inside of him, and it showed with how his trapped cock was pressing into her cunt. This was why he loved dresses.

 

It'd be so easy to shove those panties aside, or even better, rip them off, because good riddance…

 

"You're the one who wanted me here." Rey's voice was threaded with a moan. She arched into his body, her breasts pushing against his chest, encouraging him to suckle on the lobe of her ear. "Oh, f—" She hissed softly.

 

He abruptly cupped her cunt and fisted his hand in the hair at the back of her head. He used the latter to pin her to the hood now, and she bucked. With protest or encouragement, he wasn't yet sure. He stroked her through her panties as he had back at the castle, more forcefully this time, until she moaned.

 

"I want you to say you're mine," he said slowly, carefully, to make sure she understood every single word. "I want you to say that when it concerns sex, I own you."

 

"W-What—?" Rey choked. Heat filled her, nearly confusing in its intensity. She supposed it was because she hadn't expected such a change in the atmosphere, something to make it so charged. But she liked it, and the dampness of her panties could attest to that.

 

"Tell me!" he ordered. She came close to groaning at only the sound of his voice. Certainly, his words were more than enough.

 

"The only way you'll own me," she rasped, "is if I own you, too. Do I own you, too?"

 

Ben paused.

 

No one had ever said that before.

 

But his cock was twinging just thinking about it.

 

He pulled back to look her in the eye.

 

She was being completely serious.

 

Ben yanked a little on her hair, which made her jerk her chin up. She raised her eyebrows higher in challenge. He slipped his fingers beneath her panties and rubbed directly over her wet folds, swallowing her cry with a desperately heated kiss.

 

A safe word and other things would need to be discussed, but they could wait. They'd only ruin the moment.

 

He dipped a finger inside of her and moaned low in his throat. She was so hot, so slick. He let her go to slip down her body and yank her panties down. He shoved her thighs open, gripping onto one of them as he dragged his tongue between her folds. God, she tasted sweet.

 

Rey's fingers dug into his skull. She nearly bit the inside of her lip bloody trying not to yell again, her hips jerking up, rubbing her cunt against his mouth insistently. He obliged with hard suction to her clit, and he didn't let up until she was coming, heat flashing into white behind her eyes. He appeared above her, wiping his mouth over the back of his wrist, his eyes trained on hers.

 

How could he look so impossibly erotic?

 

He gripped her and yanked her down the hood, his belt jingling as he got his slacks open. Panting, Rey reached up, burying her hands in his shirt and tugging him to her. His mouth met hers as he guided the tip of his cock against her core.

 

Then he plunged in with one hard thrust.

 

The world exploded into bright colors.

 

She clutched at him, gasping, trembling by the time he bottomed out. He always made her so full—it pressed her open, made the walls of her core clamp around him, increasing sensitivity, friction. She bit his lower lip, got a nip in return.

 

"You're so fucking hot," he whispered, starting to move.

 

Words—difficult.

 

All Rey could do was moan.

 

Abruptly, he pulled out of her, and she made a sound of protest. But the head of his cock was grinding into her clit, and she fell back onto the hood, gasping, trying not to claw the paint off the Porsche.

 

"Come on me," he ordered. "Come on my cock."

 

"So demanding all of a sudden," she rasped.

 

He gripped her by the hair once more. " _Do. It._ "

 

When she took his lower lip between her teeth again, she bit enough to hurt. " _Make. Me._ "

 

His hand moved to her chest, pressing her into the hood. He tightened his grip on his cock and attacked her clit with it as hard as he could, riding that line of pain she enjoyed so much. With her sprawled beneath him like this, it was always a battle not to come undone then and there. She was so damned beautiful.

 

Ben got his wish soon after. He groaned and buried his face between her breasts, wishing her dress was off, knowing it couldn't be. This was already risky enough.

 

He slammed back into her, relishing in the noises that came from her throat in the process. He gazed down, watching his cock slip in and out of her, something he'd never grow tired of seeing. He meant it every time he said it—fucking hot.

 

"This is gonna be fast," he breathed. When wasn't it fast in a public setting like this?

 

"That's all right. You can make it up to me later." She hooked her arms around his neck, her thighs around his hips. "Just go as hard as you can."

 

And that's what he did.

 

Rey was grateful they'd thought to bring wipes to clean up the mess, although condoms would be more pertinent. Once his seed was off her stomach, she pulled her dress back down and sat up, patting at her hair.

 

What a rush!

 

"We're going back tomorrow," Ben said.

 

That brought Rey's head up. "What?"

 

"Grandmother only has a cold. I don't want to be here if I don't have to." He hesitated. "Is that okay?"

 

Honestly, she was a little relieved, like a load of pressure had been lifted off her chest and shoulders. Ben's family was nice enough, and it was exhilarating to be here in Alderaan, but it was still so soon in their relationship.

 

"It's fine," Rey promised him.

 

He kissed her forehead. "Thank you for coming with me."

 

"Thank you for trusting me enough to take me," Rey replied, squeezing his hand. "Now… about our sleeping arrangements… I don't think I want to be alone in my room, after all…"


	43. Flying Off a Calendar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to begin by saying what I haven't yet had to say in this story, as politely as I can: if you are dissatisfied with it, no one is forcing you to read it. I will take no offense if you want to stop and go your own way. Attacking me is not the solution.
> 
> Secondly, to clarify, while this story contains many genres, it is not BDSM. Because they've discussed kink doesn't make it that way.
> 
> I hope everyone is doing well! This chapter took me longer to write because I needed time to pass, and I wasn't entirely sure how to go about it. I wanted to do it the right way. So here we are! Thanks for your patience!

 

**_Prince Skywalker's—oh, we're sorry, Prince_ Solo's _—latest fling ships back to Britain to prepare for the circuit. One thing's for sure: it's a ticking time bomb. How long until it explodes in her face? Poor thing. From rags to riches, only to be in rags again in a week. Visit to the home country or not, this isn't destiny, it's a lapse in judgement. The prince is in his early thirties. Midlife crisis, anyone?_**

****

* * *

 

 

_Silverstone, Great Britain – July_

* * *

 

 

"No! I refuse to do it again!"

 

"Rey—"

 

"No!" Rey shook her head very firmly back and forth. "No, I'm not doing it! I'm not spotting! It's not my position, and even if it was, I still wouldn't do it! That was awful! Seeing what could happen like that…"

 

"You know it could happen, anyway." Ben gave her a very grumpy look as he sat his glass of orange juice on the kitchen island. "It's the same danger from the pit."

 

"But it's not staring me directly in the face! Besides, I'm already under a microscope…" She leaned against the counter with her hands and bowed her head. "No one has food poisoning anymore, and we can't risk Porsche's wrath, not if you want to keep your crew."

 

"I…" Ben held a breath, released it. A plate of toast joined the juice. "Fine."

 

They'd left the castle the very next morning, as Ben had wanted. Rey was a little sad she hadn't been able to meet the queen mother, but Ben's grandmother hadn't been feeling up to it. Though it was only a cold, it was still rough on her. Rey had cheered herself up with the idea that eventually she'd seen the woman again.

 

Maybe.

 

If they lasted that long.

 

_Please, God, let us last that long._

 

"Why is this so important to you?" Rey asked him.

 

"I _hate_ people!" He smacked a hand on the table. Rey didn't so much as flinch. "Raah! It's so much easier to hear you on the other end of that headset than those _imbeciles_!"

 

"Well, those _imbeciles_ have the title, not me," she said, picking up a piece of dry toast. "And besides, I like working in the pit. I've always wanted to. One could even say I _belong_ there." This last was said to goad him a little, and it earned her the glare she desired.

 

"Really? You 'belong' there?" He gestured with quotation marks dramatically. "You'd really hate doing this for me that much?"

 

She grinned, hopping up with her weight enough to be able to kiss his cheek over the island. It was a long stretch, but she managed it. "You want to destroy my _dream_?"

 

He shoved a piece of toast into her mouth.

 

"Hey!" she garbled.

 

"That's for the sass," he harrumphed, taking his plate and glass and leaving the kitchen.

 

"You're welcome," she called after him with her mouth full, just to be cheeky.

 

* * *

 

 

**_Cinderella? We all know Miss Kenobi cleans up well. And we can't deny that she looks good on the prince's arm. So why all the hate? Maybe some of these gossip sites are a teensy bit on the jealous side. I say, why bully her? She's cute, she's sweet, but not enough that you want to claw her eyes out. All good, in my book._ **

****

* * *

 

 

_Hockenheim, Germany – July_

* * *

 

Rey stumbled into the penthouse, giggling, thinking that maybe she'd had too much champagne. She kicked her heels off, fought to unhook pieces of jewelry. She went for her earrings first. Her poor ears were so sore. She was never wearing dangling earrings that low again, she didn't care how persuasive someone tried to be.

 

The prince gave her an amused smile, and she could have sworn she saw a twinge of fondness in it. He came up behind her, his lips on the back of her bared neck as he unzipped her dress. Her skin broke out in goosebumps. She wasn't sure if she'd ever get used to Ben's touches—she didn't want to.

 

It was like living in one of those Victorian-era novels Sitrine was so obsessed with. Ben had barely done anything at all, and her entire body was at attention.

 

"You're holding up well," he murmured. His arms circled her waist, pulled her against him. "With all the attention from the press and the gossip cites… and… being with me."

 

"You say it like being with you is a burden."

 

"Isn't it a little?"

 

"No." Rey finished with her earrings and slipped the rest of her jewelry onto the dresser. She turned around in her boyfriend's arms. Penthouse after penthouse, and none of them changed overly much. "Is being with me a burden?"

 

His hands cupped her arse and squeezed. "No."

 

"And you don't mind that I keep staying with you wherever we go?" Rey slid her hands beneath the lapels of his blazer. A sneaky grin twinkled in her eyes. "You wouldn't rather I had my own room?"

 

"If you get your own room, I will be _désolé_." His words were a hum over the column of her throat.

 

"Oh, really? You should speak French more." Her fingers worked to get the belt on his slacks open.

 

"I can't give away _all_ my secrets." He picked her up by the backs of her thighs, and she braced herself on his shoulders to hang on. He dropped her onto her back on the bed after crossing the penthouse. When his large hands slid her thighs open, she didn't resist him.

 

She could never resist him.

 

"You're staying with me the rest of the tour?" he murmured.

 

"Is that what we agreed on?"

 

He kissed her, prying her lips open with his own, and that was that. She didn't even have to think twice about it.

 

* * *

 

 

**_Well, it's already been more than a month, going on two! They're still together! How sad is that that that's an all-time record for Prince Solo? Good for this Kenobi girl, I suppose. Anyone else's thoughts? Comment below!_ **

 

* * *

 

 

_Budapest, Hungary – July_

* * *

 

"We've got a month to kill after this." Rey stayed with Ben on the race track in the aftermath of his award. Most of the cheering had settled, and people were departing back to their jobs to get around to shutting things down. The rest of the crew had disappeared twenty minutes ago—Ben had refused to let Rey go anywhere.

 

Grease was smeared on her cheek, her hair was a frizzy mess and in the messiest of buns, her jumpsuit was less clean than her face, and still he wanted to be seen with her. Every race, here she was, steadfastly at his side. The internet was peppered with more pictures of that than the ones that had been captured of her dressed up and glamorous.

 

She loved it.

 

"I'm taking you _everywhere_ ," he whispered in her ear.

 

* * *

 

 

**_Ugh. Sick in love. Here's some pictures taken from an excursion in Paris yesterday. Holding hands in the street! How long until he returns to normal? Old dogs can't learn new tricks._ **

****

* * *

 

 

_Spa-Francorchamps, Belgium – August_

* * *

 

 

**_Dameron recovers from the hospital. We've got the pics of his first appearance! And, gasp, we've dug up some dirt on Kenobi, and it seems like they were dating for quite some time before Solo leapt into the picture. Interesting. Think there's any lingering feelings there?_ **

****

* * *

 

 

_Monza, Italy – September_

* * *

 

 

_Finn: Um, hello, are you ever going to get me that autograph from Jyn Erso?! I know she signed your phone case!_

_Sitrine: We haven't seen each other in ages, darling. I know that's part of the deal for wandering around the world, but at least text me. Kisses. By the way, have you spoken to Poe? Just wondering. Don't leave me hanging too long!_

_Father: Please text Sitrine. He is becoming unbearable._

* * *

 

 

**_Summer's over, and STILL nothing on this bitch! What is up with that? Her record is crystal fucking clear! I don't buy it. She's hiding something._ **

****

* * *

 

 

_Singapore, Singapore – September_

* * *

 

 

"I really hate to bother you, but is there any way that I could get your autograph… again?" Rey smiled apologetically at the supermodel beside her. Cassian was engrossed in some sort of discussion with Ben over the previous race. "My best friend really wants it. I'm sorry—I know you get this all the time—"

 

"No, please! Don't worry about it! It's not a problem at all." With all the charm in the world, Jyn held out her hand. Relieved she wasn't being too much of a burden, Rey handed over a pen and new phone case for Finn. She planned on shipping it out the next day.

 

"How do you spell his name?" Jyn asked.

 

* * *

 

 

**_The way Kenobi keeps up with the latest fashions is just wonderful! We've all seen her in her pit clothes, and it is_ truly _a transformation. She's beautiful. I wish she would get an Instagram. She'd be an amazing Influencer._**

****

* * *

 

 

_Sochi, Russia – September_

* * *

 

 

_Finn: Oh, my God! OHMYGOD! YOU GOT ME AN AUTOGRAPH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And a new phone case that I'm going to kill you for because it's got Pokémon all over it! BUT YOU GOT ME AN AUTOGRAPH! I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU!_

_Me: Don't pretend you don't have a Pokémon Go obsession._

* * *

 

 

**_…Kenobi surprisingly pulls off a kimono…_ **

****

* * *

 

 

_Suzuka, Japan – October_

* * *

 

 

**_Back in the States, but only for—_ **

****

* * *

 

 

_Austin, USA – October_

* * *

 

 

**_…leaving Prince Solo's streak unbroken. Maybe he keeps the Kenobi girl around for a good luck charm? In other news…_ **

****

* * *

 

 

_Mexico City, Mexico – October_

* * *

 

 

Ben kicked his foot out in a circular flare, and Rey had no choice but to follow his lead as they tangoed their way across the ballroom floor. She'd lost the wager to Sitrine. On the one hand, that was terrible, and she'd never hear the end of it. On the other, she was breathless, flushed, and a little turned on. Who knew that a man who knew how to dance like this could be so sexy?

 

* * *

 

 

**_IT WAS SUSPECTED. IT WAS HINTED AT. IT WAS FANTASIZED. BUT NOW IT'S TRUE, AND WE HAVE THE PICTURES TO PROVE IT. BEHOLD: PRINCE SOLO. DANCING. I mean, I wish it was more like Kit and Ella in Cinderella -gif of Kit and Ella dancing plays-, but what can you do? I'll take what I can get! Yummy, yum yum!_ **

****

* * *

 

 

_Sao Paulo, Brazil – November_

* * *

 

_Sitrine: You're going to be home in less than a month! Are you excited?_

_Me: : (_

_Sitrine: What's wrong?_

_Me: I've gotten so used to staying with him._

_Sitrine: It can't be that way when you get back?_

_Me: I don't know. I'm too afraid to ask._

_Sitrine: Don't be ridiculous._

* * *

 

 

**_And that brings the season to a very memorable end! Prince Solo due to return home, filthy rich with all his winnings from the year. Maybe he'll donate some of it to charity. It's not like he really needs the money, right? Dameron forever!_ **

****

* * *

 

 

_Yas Marina, Abu Dhabi – November_

* * *

 

 

_Home – November_

* * *

 

Rey threw her keys on the table beside her front door and shrugged out of her jacket. She bent and yanked off her leather boots. Her suitcases had been hauled inside by a very helpful cabbie minutes ago. Ben had paid her cab fare home—he'd had some things to do at the shop.

 

She breathed in the stale air of her flat.

 

It was certainly no penthouse, and this was certainly no exotic location.

 

But, for all intents and purposes, it was "home."

 

Leaving her luggage in the living room, she took a shower to get the smell of multiple airports off her. Her limbs felt cramped. It was after midnight, and she'd been stuck in chairs more or less all day. First class was first class, yes, but it was still a _chair_ she sat in for hours on end.

 

What now?

 

She didn't live with Ben.

 

It had been different, when they were touring. They'd gone from hotel to hotel. It was like an extended vacation. It wasn't the same as… as sharing a _home_ , as sharing someplace permanent. They hadn't discussed what would happen once they got back to the States, and now here she was, and there _he_ was… It wasn't like she could just take an elevator up to his floor…

 

He lived across the city!

 

She hit the bed flat on her stomach with a groan, her face mushed into a pillow. The journey was wearying enough that it was battling the jet lag. Her eyes closed, and she drifted.

 

Except she could never manage to actually fall asleep.

 

Was Ben home? What was he doing? Was _he_ asleep? Was he doing perfectly well without her? Or did he miss her with an ache that was impossible to ignore? Did he long to feel her in his arms? Breathe in her scent… touch her skin…

 

Rey sat up and rubbed at her eyes. She was honestly ready to cry. She couldn't remember the last night she'd spent alone, and the uncertainty of it all was killing her.

 

She looked at the empty pillow on the other side of the bed.

 

 _Ben should be there_ , she thought.

 

Sitrine was right. She shouldn't be afraid.

 

Rey snapped a photo of the pillow and sent it to Ben's phone. It was accompanied by a sad little frown emote. Embarrassed, she stuffed her phone under her pillow and flopped back down, wrenching the covers over her shoulder. Damn. It was too late—the picture, the emote, they were out there. She couldn't take them back.

 

Her pillow vibrated.

 

Heart pounding to the point where it was difficult to draw breath, Rey withdrew her phone with all the care of someone handling dynamite on _Lost_.

 

_Ben Solo: 218 Lexington. Code is 3224._

 

In other words:

 

Come over, Rey.


	44. Same Point of View

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare for the fluff.

_'Cause I got issues, but you got 'em, too,_

_So give 'em all to me, and I'll give mine to you,_

_Bask in the glory of all our problems,_

_'Cause we got the kind of love it takes to solve 'em,_

_Yeah, I got issues,_

_And one of them is how bad I need you_

-Issues, Julia Michaels

 

 

_Rey Kenobi: Be there soon._

Ben was hanging upside down over the side of his bed from his hips, having just finished typing in his address to his… girlfriend. He'd fumbled his phone when she'd sent that picture of her empty pillow. Now he closed his eyes and exhaled, his heart pounding.

 

He wasn't sure how he was going to get back up without injuring himself. It wasn't exactly like he was a young, spring buck anymore. He might have to roll free and hope he didn't hit his head on something when he bounced. His back was already promising an ache for tomorrow.

 

Typing upside down. This was what Rey had reduced him to.

 

A humbled fool quivering with hope and excitement.

 

All at once, the floor rushed up at him, and he collapsed on his face, his long body landing shortly after.

 

Silence enveloped the bedroom.

 

His cheek was plastered to the floor. His knee hurt from where he'd banged it on the corner of the nightstand.  

 

"Ow…"

* * *

 

 

Rey's car pulled onto Ben's driveway. She tried to park off to the side, where oil marks wouldn't mar that pretty pavement. After she turned the ignition off, she idled, clutching the wheel, peering through the windshield at the massive house. It was new and impressive, just like everything else in Rey's life lately.

 

New, impressive, and vaguely terrifying.

 

How could she walk into that house as she was, still clad in her pajamas with an overnight bag on the passenger seat?

 

 _"They're just things, you know,"_ Ben whispered at the back of her mind.

 

Her grip tightened on the wheel.

 

_"Sometimes a little more comfortable, sometimes a little better, but it's like Monopoly money."_

She'd been so afraid to touch anything that was his. She'd been so conscious of the oil stains underneath her nails that she could never seem to scrub away, no matter how hard she tried. She'd never be able to have pretty nails to go with all these glamorous outfits she'd acquired. And she'd been fine with that, at first. But now, sitting here in his driveway, she…

 

_"You can touch anything in here that you like."_

Rey hung her head between her shoulders.

 

She had to stop doing this. She had to stop coming up with reasons to be so afraid. It had been _months_. Months of traveling from country to country, constantly at Ben's side. Was it because they were home now that she was so unsettled?

 

_"That's… good. It means I can touch you. And you're really spoiled for a view if you think that one is mediocre."_

_"Oh, I'm definitely spoiled. A_ better _view just walked into my room."_

 

Would he still find her so beautiful now that the exoticness of the trip had worn off? She knew he would—she _knew_. But that little girl who felt so abandoned and always had, she was trying to protect herself even now, right in this moment, years of hard work to feel otherwise sloughing off in the face of… everything.

 

Oh, God.

 

She'd almost said it.

 

Almost said—

 

_Rey, you dolt, you're transparent. You were so desperate to come here, you didn't even dress properly._

Nerves clanging enough to make her tremble, she got out of the car with her bag. She crossed to the front door.

 

Her hand rose to knock—lowered.

_Rey… come on… you can do this…_

* * *

 

 

Ben stared down the door, willing it to make a noise, for the bell to ring, something. He would even accept the sound of Rey's car starting and leaving.

 

Anxiety clenched his stomach. He thought he was going to be sick.

 

He was a wreck, standing there in his pajama bottoms, with his hair still flat on one side from the pillow and stress having put a line between his brows.

 

And then it came, so gently he would have missed it if he hadn't been right there.

 

_Tap, tap, tap._

Relieved, he threw the door open, and the first words that came to mind tumbled out of his mouth.

 

"I should have a key made."

 

Rey dropped her things inside the doorway and leapt into his arms. She was glued to him not unlike a monkey, but she didn't care. She buried her face at his neck, her arms locked around it. He smelled so good. He was so warm.

 

He was her Ben.

 

"I'd like that…" She was behaving like she hadn't seen him in weeks. But that temporary doubt had felt like it. She was drinking in that this was real, that he was real. That she hadn't lost him—that he still wanted her with him.

 

Ben kicked the door closed, drawing her into the house, his arms snug beneath her bottom. He didn't expect any of his neighbors to have a camera ready, since most of them had similar problems, but he'd rather not risk it.

 

He kissed the side of her head. "You couldn't sleep, either?" He hefted her a little higher when she started to slip, making it clear he wasn't putting her down. He didn't want to put her down ever again, logic be damned.

 

"No…" Rey adjusted her hold. "I was wide awake. I kept thinking about how much I wished you were beside me. I never told you this, but I get the best sleep when I'm with you…"

 

She wasn't certain why she was speaking about any of this. They usually weren't given to discussing these sorts of things. She had a feeling, however, that it was essential she tell him what was in her heart. She didn't want to lose him because she didn't.

 

"I… I needed you…"

 

Ben held his breath and let that sink in. They'd said things like that before—during sex. Not the sort of thing that resulted in pictures of a lonely little pillow.

 

He didn't think anyone had ever needed him before. Not like that. And he was afraid that he might be reading too much into it, but she was there, wasn't she? That had to count for… _something_.

 

"I… I needed you, too. I don't… think I like being alone anymore."

 

"I don't like it, either," Rey mumbled, content in his arms. In fact, she was, at last, growing sleepy. It left her walls down—let words drift out without her meaning them to. "You should let me move in. Then we never have to be apart."

 

Ben kissed her cheek again, beginning to carry her upstairs to his bedroom. "You're right. I should. You should." His voice was soft, even, completely the opposite of how he felt.

 

_This is it. This is real._

If she really wanted it, then… Oh, God.

 

But he wanted it, too, so fucking much.

 

"I want to…" she murmured.

 

The steps jostled her enough to drive some of the sleepiness back.

 

Her face turned crimson. Mortification filled her, made her want to go crawl under a rock somewhere and die. She'd said— _that!_

 

But he'd—

 

"May I?" Her head came up so she could see his face. A hand rose to pat down the other side of his hair. It wasn't making much of a dent. That was a serious cowlick. "T… This isn't—random." She averted her eyes. "I've been thinking about it… It's really okay if I can't, though. It won't ruin anything. I promise."

 

Ben's stomach was in knots. That didn't stop him from answering her, from saying what was in his heart. "I've been thinking about it, too. If you want to stay, then I want it. I didn't want you to feel pressured, because of—the tabloids, or like I have expectations…" He'd learned not to have expectations from anyone a long time ago. "It's not the same, not having you with me."

 

That was about as honest as he thought he could stand to be at the moment. Terror had its icy grip around its heart. It lessened every day, at its glacially slow pace, but its cool touch lingered. This could still go tits up.

 

"Okay." She rested her forehead against his. "Then it's decided."

 

He nodded. "You're moving in."

 

They both expelled a tremulous breath—

 

And smiled.

 


	45. A Glimpse of Domesticity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I started a new story called Chocolate (if you haven't checked it out yet and want to!), so I was working on that more. Both Falling and Bond are heavy, and I needed a break with something humorous. But I am here now! With… more fluff.

Ben's house was incredibly spacious and well-furnished. She wondered if he'd had someone decorate it or if he'd done it himself. So many rooms… She wanted to explore later.

 

"Your home is really lovely, Ben."

 

A faint smile. "It's just a place. I have several."

 

 _Several_? Where were the others?

 

"Come on, let's get some sleep, and we can talk about moving your things in the morning."

 

Pleasure surged through Rey at that, and she found herself beaming. She kissed him and rested her cheek on his shoulder. They entered his room, leaving her to take more things in. At her wriggling, he set her down.

 

"You have a Californian king? No wonder you need me," she joked. She grinned, working at getting her clothes off, with the exception of her panties. She didn't mind sleeping in the nude with him, which they'd both come to prefer, but it was chilly in here.

 

"Thanks…" She leaned onto her tiptoes to kiss him, her breasts brushing his bare chest. It was a shame they were too tired to do anything. "I'm glad you texted me back." She was glad she'd been brave enough not to succumb to the fear that he wouldn't.

 

He muttered something about having a long body. "I am, too." He shucked off his pajama bottoms. He'd only put them on to answer the door. "You'll have to help me Christen it later. It's too late tonight."

 

"All right." At least they were in agreement there.

 

Unable to keep that grin off her face, she went to the bed and pulled back the covers on the side not mussed. It was nearing three in the morning. She groaned as she sank into the soft, soft, _soft_ bed.

 

"I'm never leaving this thing." Equally soft pillows greeted her cheek. "I don't need you anymore—I only need this bed." She peeked an eye open so that he could see she was joking. He never said it, but he was awfully sensitive sometimes.

 

Gratitude showed briefly in his eyes, that she was making room for his quirks. "Unfortunately, we're a package deal." He flopped onto the pillows with a sound of exhaustion. He paused to kiss her forehead and then turned off the bedside lamp. "Goodnight."

 

"Goodnight." She was surrounded by his scent anew, and it was _wonderful._

She intended to stay on her side of the bed—she fell asleep that way. It was a large enough bed, after all, gargantuan, really. There was no reason to be in his space. But during the night, her body remembered the months spent next to him. She snuggled against his back, her arm around him and her legs through his.

 

Slumber was sweet.

 

* * *

 

 

It was thanks to Ben's thick curtains that he wasn't woken up by sunlight stabbing at his eyes. It was the soft, warm body spooning him from behind that made it a slow, easy waking, and he hated doing it. He was in a familiar bed for the first time in months, and Rey was there with him.

 

But they had things to do that day, not in the least arranging the end of her lease.

 

The thought made his stomach twist into a dozen little knots.

 

They could do this. He knew that. That didn't make it any less terrifying, which was a word in his vocabulary that he needed to learn to replace where it came to Rey. They were moving in together, though. This was a big step. He deserved some leeway.

 

Ben wove their fingers together where her hand rested on his chest and settled in to wait for her to wake.

 

* * *

 

 

Coffee.

 

A delicate sigh that she'd be embarrassed for making later—how _feminine_ —left Rey's lips. Ben's shoulder blade was close to them, so she nuzzled there. The covers and sheets had fallen off during the night, which was fine. Ben was his own furnace.

 

 _Coffee_.

 

"Please tell me there's a coffee machine of some sort downstairs," she rasped. She'd settle for a twenty dollar one like she had in her own flat. If Finn hadn't borrowed it. He'd taken a few things while he'd checked on her flat for her. She'd considered it an even deal, so long as she got those things back.

 

She grazed several kisses to Ben's shoulder and bicep. Ben Solo was so incredibly… _yummy_.

 

Ben was conspicuously far more awake than she was. There was a bit of a jaunt to his movements as he rolled over and smooched her cheek. "There is. Stay here." With a final kiss, he rolled out of bed, grabbing a robe from its hook and making his way downstairs.

 

* * *

 

 

Rey had time to take care of things while he was gone. She hurried back into bed, freezing. So far as she could discern, the air conditioner was on full blast, and it was _November_. Around this time, Ben returned with two cups and a thermal carafe. The side of the bed bent as he pushed a cup of steaming coffee under her nose.

 

"Drink," he said in the gravelly voice he had in the mornings.

 

"Coffee!" she cheered. She proceeded to inhale its glorious scent with dramatic flare and sat up against the headboard, keeping the sheet around her. A grateful sip of the stimulant revealed that not only did it have a rich flavor that tickled her taste buds, it was flavored precisely as she preferred it.

 

Did he have one of those ridiculous coffee machines, where you had to grind the beans and everything else that entailed?

 

How the hell were any of her things going to fit in here…? They'd look so out of place.

 

"I have a lot of books. And games. And game systems… I used to have time." She ruminated about that. She'd studied hard in school, but she hadn't dated, so all of her free time had gone to hobbies. "Not too many clothes… some kitchen things…"

 

She blew out a breath. "Um, and—I can always get a storage unit for the furniture in there. I'm sure you're not going to want any of it. Other than that, there's not really anything," she finished feebly.

 

"There's you," Ben said, and her stomach contracted with butterflies. "I have plenty of space for the rest." He adjusted his robe and sipped his coffee. "There's the attic and the basement for common storage. Or you can use one of the spare bedrooms, if you want some of your own space when it gets to be… too much."

 

He kept his voice neutral as he said it, as if he wasn't dreading the inevitable time when she did need it. He knew it wasn't unusual for couples to mark out space for themselves. It wasn't even unhealthy. But knowing that and making himself believe it were two different things.

 

"Your game systems can go in the entertainment center. Next to mine. Everything else will find a place."

 

"Okay." She smiled at him and finished off her coffee. "I brought some things to take a shower before we get going." She took his hand in hers. "You're far more likely to need space than me. I adapt fairly easily." She'd learned to identify worries when his eyes pinched ever so slightly at the corners. "What do you want to do first?"

 

"I generally start with breakfast." Which… was true, Rey supposed. "You can shower while I cook?" His lips caressed the line of her knuckles before he used his free hand to refill her coffee automatically. "The bedside table has more cream and sugar."

 

He set the carafe down and opened what was, in actuality, a very well disguised mini-fridge. "Too many long nights to keep going back for more and adding it to the pot ruined the finish."

 

Rey tried not to gape. Ben Solo, still surprising her with little luxuries. "Little" being a relative term. She'd have to remember not to get too spoiled living here. He was determined to make her so in every other department, like clothes and shoes and handbags…

 

She inhaled another cup of coffee once he'd left and then headed downstairs to get her things to haul them back upstairs.

 

This house.

 

So. Big.

 

The master bathroom wasn't on par with what she'd dealt with at the castle in Alderaan, but it nonetheless earned a second gaping mouth. A bachelor spread of monochrome that stretched on forever. She placed her toothbrush and paste at the sink next to his and convinced herself that this was fine, that she wouldn't die from worry.

 

What if this didn't work out? What if this was a _horrible_ idea?

 

 _It isn't_ , she assured herself. _You've practically been living with him for months._

The shower's water pressure beat against her shoulders. She placed her hands against the slick shower wall to brace herself, her head bowed. The water felt so damn good. She'd had tension locked in her shoulders and hadn't been aware of it.

 

Habit began after that. High-end product to apply to her hair. Blow-drying, using a flat iron. Moisturizing had been skipped the night before, but she knew her skin looked fine as she applied a host of make-up to it. All of it, of course, was geared to make it look like she was wearing barely any.

 

Dark skinny jeans. Thin, slouchy maroon sweater. She'd dress warmer once they left the house.

 

Heavenly scents drifted upstairs. Her stomach growled.

 

Breakfast!

 

* * *

 

 

"Woooow," Rey said appreciatively. She hopped onto a stool at the kitchen island. "This is a much bigger spread than you usually provide." They'd lived off a combination of toast and eggs, room service, and restaurants in whatever city they were in.

 

Ben had changed into pajamas, since experience had taught him better than to cook in a robe, busy putting together a frittata. "I needed to get money somehow, and restaurants are known not to ask too many questions. I was terrible as a waiter, but I managed in a kitchen."

 

Those first months away from Alderaan had been difficult. He'd persevered. Anything was better than dealing with the pall cast over that castle.

 

He checked the state of the food—almost ready—and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee. The machine was ridiculously complex, an impulse buy. Cassian had visited a handful of times, and he couldn't help himself from ribbing about the fact that Ben only ever drank black coffee from it.

 

"I'm not a chef, but I can get by without a cook. The maid, however, comes on Mondays and Thursdays."

 

"Oh, so this was just to impress me, then?" That impish tone he loved so much came to Rey's voice.

 

Abruptly, her arms were snaking around him from behind, and her hands slid over his chest, roaming appreciatively. She kissed his back.

 

"Can I have you for breakfast instead?" she teased.

 

 _So_ many dirty thoughts came to mind.

 

Ben twisted in her arms, wrapping the one that didn't have coffee in it around her. "Once the food is done cooking, you can top it with whatever you like." He gave her a brief kiss, well aware that he hadn't brushed his teeth yet. "And maybe I do want to impress you. The usual tricks don't work, so I'm upping my game."

 

Rey laughed and returned to the island. Her feet dangled from her stool. "The usual tricks? What are those? _Do_ tell." She folded her arms on the counter in an expectant manner. "Although… you don't have to impress me, you know. I'm here, aren't I?"

 

"And I'd like to keep you here," he countered.

 

Black coffee went down smoothly while he checked on the food again. He reached for his mitts. Eggs went from done to overdone quickly in a hot oven.

 

"Generally, fame, wealth, the cars and my family ties have been what's attracted women to me. Of those, I think only the cars may have worked on you." He carefully extracted the frittata from the cast iron skillet and flipped it onto a plate to be sliced. "Of course, few of my previous… girlfriends… would have come on the circuit with me."

 

He smirked at her. "Not that I gave you much of a choice."

 

Rey chuckled, remembering their early days. "I love your cars. I would make love to them if I could." The food smelled so _tasty_ , and it made her stomach rumble loudly. "But I don't like your cars because of a status symbol. I like what makes them tick."

 

She rested her chin on her folded arms, studying him. "I like what makes _you_ tick…"

 

"Some would say that's spite, anger, and venom." He piled two plates high with the frittata and a side of croissants, then poured her a new cup of coffee before carrying them to the table. He might not have worked out as a waiter, due to his _sparkling_ personality, but he handled the multiple cups and plates easily, sliding hers in front of her.

 

"I think I wouldn't mind seeing you make love to my cars one day. But for now, we'll simply have to continue ruining the upholstery." His smirk grew as he took a seat across from her. He stretched his legs out so their feet bumped.

 

"Spite, anger, and venom?" She opened her mouth to make a sarcastic remark. It died on her tongue. She lowered her eyes to her food, poking at it with her fork. "That's only the surface you project. Or maybe it's not just the surface, but I know there's more to you than that."

 

She wouldn't say what. That would be too sappy.

 

"Mmm, this is really good. I have to admit, I was worried it wouldn't be."

 

His foot under the table rubbed hers in gratitude for changing the subject. She was getting good at that. He wondered if he should feel odd, that she tried to protect him from himself. "It's not terribly different from a quiche, and it doesn't require a crust. Simple enough, once you know the trick."

 

Ben tore into his croissant first, observing her from under his lashes. It was nice… seeing her having breakfast that he made, in _his_ kitchen, after a night in _his_ bed. It was homely. Right.

 

"I usually make breakfast every morning when I'm here, unless I'm eating out for some reason. You can consider it a perk of being with me."

 

Rey hooked her ankles around his. "One of the many." She pretended not to notice the stunned look he gave her, drinking more coffee. She was still so exhausted. Jet lag was her nemesis. "I can help sometimes, maybe. Well… I'm much better at baking things. I have a wicked sweet tooth. But I make a really good breakfast crumble cake."

 

Her laughter was quiet, mostly a shake of her shoulders. "Is it going to be… intrusive if I explore everything? I feel like I'm snooping."

 

Been took his time chewing, considering. It was nerve-wracking. She'd undoubtedly see things. His past… But he couldn't hide it, could he?

 

"I think… that you will be living here, too. You may as well know it. It's not as if you were just visiting." And she'd heard the worst of it. What was left might be embarrassing or sentimental, but not terrible.

 

He hoped.

 

"Well… You can hide things first if you want to." Rey wasn't sure how to take his silence. "I'll understand. I just want to see where I live now."

 

Live now. She lived here…

 

"I don't want to hide anything from you," he insisted. "You already know the worst. I trust you with the rest, as well." He wasn't sure why he trusted her so much. Because she'd had ample opportunity to take advantage of it, and she hadn't? She knew him more than anyone else, and she had yet to turn away.

 

"Some of it's embarrassing," he said. "Most of it's just… things. Albums. Newspaper clippings. You might find me boring."

 

Rey's laughter rang through the kitchen, bringing his eyes up to her.

 

"Oh, Ben," she said fondly. "You'll _never_ be boring."


	46. Interlude II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding here what I did in Chocolate: I wanted to make a note for anyone who reads The Bond That Ties Us: I am currently rereading/editing the story because we're approaching the climax. I want to make sure that I've got everything consistent and lined up.
> 
> I'm slipping in another interlude here. The request for sex was high, and it wasn't long enough to constitute as a full chapter. I didn't want to add plot to the end of it, as some of my readers prefer to skip these scenes.
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys!

 

 

 

 

"You're a good girl, aren't you?"

 

Rey had been playing this game with Ben for months now, and she still blushed every single time.

 

She gripped her arms more tightly around his hips, the hardwood of the kitchen floor digging into her knees. The wet noises of Ben's cock banging into her throat echoed in her ears. She kept her eyes tightly shut. If she saw his face, she'd grow more embarrassed.

 

The words already turned her on so much.

 

"Touch yourself," he murmured. His fingers slid through her hair, stroking her scalp in gentle motions that shot tingles down her spine in heady waves. His other hand was fastened around the back of her neck, working her face on his cock in hard, relentless thrusts.

 

Rey's fingers fought with her jeans—unzipped them. She pushed her panties aside and touched her folds. Pure, wet heat greeted her. She didn't think he had ever _not_ turned her on. He knew all the right things to say, all the right things to do.

 

"If you swallow, I'll give you a reward…" The backs of his fingertips dragged over her jawline.

 

That wasn't something she needed coaxing for. But it did make her lift her eyes. His dark ones bore into her own. Her clit was slick and swollen as she toyed with it. She choked each time he bottomed out, her nose brushing his abdomen. She far from minded it.

 

His breath trembled in as his lashes fluttered against his cheekbones. A single jerk against her head, and hot seed poured over her tongue. His grip loosened as he bent over her, panting. She swallowed once her mouth was clear, well-used to the taste.

 

"Good girl…" he whispered.

 

She rested her cheek against his hipbone, her lungs laboring for air. She had only a moment to recover before Ben picked her straight up off the floor and twisted her, bending her over the kitchen island. He swept the remnants of their breakfast out of their way.

 

She heard him kneel behind her.

 

A wicked tongue attacked her clit, and she spasmed as she came, crying out, her body strung high from arousal. Her hands scrabbled for purchase on the island counter, the tile making it difficult. Moaning, she hefted herself up enough that she could brace her hands on the opposite edge of the counter. It would bruise her hips, but she wouldn't be able to stay still otherwise.

 

He buried his face against her cunt while making quick work of her panties and jeans. He spread her thighs wide, his tongue rubbing over her relentlessly. She flinched, biting her lip as she came again, soaking his chin.

 

Ben nibbled on her thigh. "You taste so sweet."

 

Rey pressed her forehead to the cool tiles. Oh, God. Oh, Christ.

 

He slapped her arse just on the line of pain as he got to his feet. He gripped the base of his erection, dragging it through the remnants of her orgasm. It seemed today was one of the mornings he was able to get it up again quickly. Sometimes they had to wait a while.

 

The head of him caught against her entrance. She rolled her hips back into him, and he sank all the way to the hilt. They both groaned. Ben was so big—he filled her up in all the best ways. It provided the very best friction, especially from this position.

 

"Beg me for it," he said, his palms sliding up the length of her stomach, over her ribs. They cupped her breasts under her bra and squeezed as his wrists shoved it up.

 

Rey panted softly. "Please…"

 

"Please what?"

 

"I—hard?" She made a sound of frustration, bumping her hips again. "Ben."

 

"One of these days I'll get you to say the words," he promised.

 

And then he gave them what they both wanted.

 

It was mostly rutting. They hadn't gone this long without sex before, and they'd taken a new, gigantic step together. There was no other way for them but fast and furious.

 

"Come with me," he panted.

 

In the end, there were two messes. One splattered on the hardwood, and the other came in a hot, sticky stream onto the small of her back. Ben grunted in the aftermath of her shout. After another moment, he fell against the table over her, winded.

 

"Fuck…" He buried his face in her neck and kissed it.

 

She agreed heartily yet lacked the breath to say it.

 

The depth of kink Ben enjoyed went layers and layers beyond what Rey liked to toe around. However, the way he exerted dominance over her in sexual situations… She licked her lips just thinking about it.

 

Slowly, achingly slow, they dove into the more… vanilla side of his repertoire. Letting him be in charge completely was a matter of trust, something they'd discussed at length, unless she was topping from the bottom. It was even usually more elaborate, but they were still jet-lagged. For now, this would have to do.

 

Something he was perfectly all right with.

 

It made her smile to think about it.

 

"We should move your things," he said.

 

"After a shower," she replied. It'd be her second one in an hour, but…

 

Entirely worth it.


	47. On the Horizon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Hope you're still with me.

 

"You're insane if you think we're going there for Thanksgiving."

 

Rey sighed impatiently, bracing her hands on the kitchen island. She was barefoot, and her hair was up in a messy bun. She hadn't taken much care with her appearance today. For once, she didn't have anywhere to be and no cameras to worry about. She could be herself.

 

"They've both called me," Rey said.

 

Ben paused in opening the refrigerator, his brows raised with the stirrings of anger. "They did _what_?"

 

"They called me," she said. Outwardly, she sounded cool, confident. Inwardly, she wanted to quail and make herself scarce. This was still… _dangerous_ territory. Ironic, given that the fact that she was in a relationship with the prince was in all the papers and gossip rags, but Ben hated his family. The circumstances were unique.

 

He shut the door with more force than was necessary and clunked the jug of orange juice onto the counter. His shoulders were tense as he rummaged in the cabinet for a glass. His hair was damp from his recent shower, and he was as dressed down as she was, with a loose T-shirt and pajama pants.

 

And his glasses, which she hadn't seen in some time.

 

Ah, the little pleasures in the world.

 

"They shouldn't have done that," he said.

 

"Maybe—"

 

"No. _They shouldn't have_."

 

"Right. But they just want to—"

 

"I don't care what they want!" He twisted to see her. "I don't want to see them, Rey. I mean it."

 

"Well, that's too bad, then," she said, taking a deep breath, because all hell was about to break loose. "I already said we'd go."

 

"Un-tell them!" Ben shouted. He slammed his glass down, juice sloshing over his hand. He barely noticed. "We are not going!"

 

"We _are_." Rey didn't want to spend the holidays alone. She'd come up with a plan, and all she had to do was get him to listen long enough. "My dad's going to be there, too. Okay? It's going to be a thing. This is my favorite time of the year, and if you—want this, want me in your life, then I—"

 

"Where is this _coming_ from?"

 

"Then I need you to do this for me!" Rey hated to raise her voice.

 

"If you want to spend time with your dad, then—fuck it, we'll go to Oxford! All right? I'll go with you! But I'm not going to Alderaan—"

 

"We're going!" Rey insisted. "Your grandmother really wants to see you—"

 

"Don't," he said, starting to pace.

 

"What? Don't what?"

 

"Don't do that. Don't use my grandmother against me."

 

Rey shook her head in exasperation. "Ben Solo. I am _not_ using your grandmother against you. Your mother told me about it! Then she put your father on, and he—well, we talked about cars, but then he said he wanted to see you, too!"

 

Her boyfriend waved that off with a, " _Bah_."

 

"He did!"

 

"He wanted to see _you_! You're like the freaking gold mine of kids!"

 

 _If that's so true, then why was I abandoned_? Rey thought.

 

That wasn't the angle she wanted to go with. It wasn't a fight she wanted to have. This was already awful.

 

"Stop being such a martyr!" Rey snapped. "I'm going with or without you."

 

"Have fun without me, then!"

 

"I will." Her eyes not leaving his, Rey took a long sip from her glass of milk. "Your cock won't like it, though."

 

He cursed. "You wicked, _wicked_ …"

 

The ensuing tickle/wrestling match journeyed through the kitchen and to the wide couch in the living room, where Ben threw her. He grasped her by the ankle and jerked her down the cushions, wresting a new screech of laughter from her.

 

"How _dare_ you threaten me with sex…" He kissed her fiercely, and her heart began to pound for different reasons.

 

"When you have no other options…" she managed to get out.

 

They'd only been living together for a week. It had taken less than a day to move her things from her flat, and he'd hired movers to do it. But aside from the different, much more spacious and permanent lodgings, nothing had changed overly much.

 

"Take it back," he growled.

 

"No," she rasped. His lips found her neck and suckled, and she moaned. "No fair."

 

"You're not exactly playing fair, either," he pointed out. His hands slid under her shirt, along the lean muscles of her stomach. "This is extortion."

 

"Well, _that's_ a tad dramatic." Rey let the shirt be pulled over her head. "Don't even think I'm letting you forget about this."

 

"Mmm. We'll see."

 

He disappeared down her body and between her thighs, and she lost track of her thoughts entirely.

 

* * *

 

 

"So when are you going to let me see the place?"

 

Rey sighed as she pushed her cart through the grocery store, her shoulder cradling her mobile against her cheek. Ben liked to order his food to his house, but she needed an excuse to be in public, even if it _was_ incognito, or some form of it. Sunglasses were rather conspicuous. Staying dressed down wasn't.

 

"I don't know," Rey told Sitrine. "We're going to Alderaan for Thanksgiving."

 

"That's in two days!"

 

"I know."

 

"Aren't you busy shopping and packing for your fabulous holiday?"

 

"At the moment, I'm buying food for the next couple of days. Ben is always cooking, and I want to try and make him dinner." Rey frowned at the pasta section. "To pay him back for all he's done for me…" she murmured. "Not that dinner can ever make up for it…"

 

"Why do you sound distracted all of a sudden?"

 

"Because." She sighed, dropping her head. "I'm a horrible girlfriend."

 

"What did you do _this_ time?"

 

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean?" Rey tossed a box of pasta into her cart.

 

"Oh, nothing, nothing…"

 

"Spill it, Sitrine," Rey said tiredly.

 

"You strung Poe along for over a year. That's all I'm saying, dove."

 

"I didn't _string him along_. I was perfectly clear from the beginning." Crabby at the mention of Poe in such terms, Rey pushed her cart a little harder than was necessary down the next aisle.

 

"Touché. I'll allow you to get to the point, darling."

 

"How charitable of you," Rey muttered. She decided to get straight to the point. "Is it bad that I'm… forcing Ben to go to Alderaan to spend the holiday with his parents?"

 

"How are you _forcing_ him to go?" Sitrine's voice sharpened with curiosity.

 

"I may have threatened to withhold sex," Rey admitted. It wasn't precisely her proudest moment. On the other hand, it had resulted in an excellent round of foreplay.

 

And then a nice rump over the back of the couch.

 

"Rey Kenobi," Sitrine purred. "My, my, _my_. I didn't think you were capable of extortion."

 

It would have been nice if everyone would stop flinging that word around. "It isn't like that! It's—his parents called me… They said they really wanted him there, especially his grandmother, and he's close to his grandmother."

 

Spaghetti sauce joined the pasta. Rey wasn't skilled enough to make her own from scratch.

 

"If he really doesn't want to go, don't force him," Sitrine said. "That's my 'professional' opinion. He has issues with his family, and if he doesn't want to see them…" He _tsked_ softly.

 

He wasn't wrong.

 

"And your 'unprofessional' opinion?"

 

"Being near his family will do some good. Did you talk to your father about it?"

 

"As a matter of fact…" Rey steeled herself. She knew what response Sitrine was going to give once _he_ heard her plans. "My father is coming with me. You know I don't like spending my holidays alone, and I thought… well…"

 

"That it's time for your families to meet? It _has_ been some time…"

 

Rey's shoulders relaxed minutely.

 

"Hey, if your father is coming, I want to come, too!"

 

 _So close_.

 

"Sitrine…" Rey objected.

 

" _What_? If he's coming, I want to come! I'm your best friend!"

 

"You keep forgetting you share that title with Finn." And, once upon a time, Poe, but that was no longer. And, last Rey had heard, Poe had found himself a very beautiful supermodel to date. Nothing had relieved Rey more. She was so thankful Poe had found a way to move on—and that he had recovered from that accident so well.

 

"Finn, schminn," Sitrine replied dismissively. "I want to meet Ben!"

 

"Ah," Rey said knowingly.

 

"Ah, what?"

 

"We come to the _real_ reason you want to come," Rey said. "You want to meet the boyfriend."

 

" _And_ see the castle and a queen and king. Do you not know me at all? I could entice a noble—a duke, a duchess! Become their toy! Begin to lead a glamorous life like you do!"

 

Rey could write an essay on how she hadn't wanted a glamorous life thrust upon her. She was a tomboy through and through. But she wanted to be with Ben, and it wasn't as much of a hardship as she had imagined it would be.

 

Yet, anyway. She had a feeling the other shoe hadn't dropped, that it was waiting for the perfect moment.

 

"Well… to get to more _pressing_ matters…"

 

Rey eyed the contents of her cart. Bread, pasta, sauce… She needed another side. And perhaps a salad?

 

"Are you going to meet with your parents?"

 

"I don't have any parents," Rey mumbled, wheeling her cart toward the produce section. A salad sounded like a fine plan. "I have my father. You know that." What was Sitrine on about now?

 

"Woman, stop being distracted! I'm serious! Are you going to meet with your parents?"

 

Rey stopped in the center of the produce section.

 

"…What are you talking about?" she asked slowly.

 

"Your father. Your parents found him. They want to see you. Are you going to let them?"

 

Rey's world narrowed down to nothing but static.

 

"Rey? Hellooo? Rey?"

 

 _And there goes the other shoe_ , she thought numbly.


	48. When Trust Blooms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry for the delay. I got super sick, and I'm only now recovering from a bout of bronchitis. But I'm here! This is a super important chapter. I believe you will be pleased!

The rain fell over the windows of the orphanage in a steady deluge. Rey, curled up on a windowsill, watched it happen, her arms around her knees as she gazed far into the distance. She'd been told she was having a visitor today. It didn't mean anything to her. She'd had several of them already, perspective parents. They'd come and gone.

 

No one wanted a child who was already broken.

 

They did at first. They'd take her into their home, but after it became evident that she didn't want to talk, that nothing they did _could_ make her open up to them, they were over it. Why waste their time? They clearly wouldn't make a difference. And back to the orphanage she'd go.

 

She didn't care.

 

She couldn't care.

 

Her own parents had abandoned her. What were three more?

 

There was something _wrong_ with her, inherently so… They could all see it… She may as well accept her fate… That she was doomed to be alone… Why bother to make friends, even? They'd leave her, as well, taken because they were whole, they were wanted, and the ones who stayed saw her for who she really was, just like the adults.

 

A nobody.

 

Nothing.

 

"Here she is!" Mrs. Everly chirruped in her customary way. It grated on Rey's nerves. A bloody freak hurricane could hit the coast of England any second, and nothing would be able to wipe the smile off her face.

 

 _Stay positive!_ she reiterated to those under her temporary guardianship and most especially to Rey. She was desperately trying to break through to her, the only one who hadn't given it up as a bad job. Rey didn't think it was because she had any real faith in Rey's connection to the world. Mrs. Everly simply refused to accept failure.

 

"Thank you," said a man with a bit of a Scottish brogue. "Ah… do you mind if we have a moment?"

 

"Certainly, certainly!" Mrs. Everly buggered off, tending to another child with an alliteration of a name, Fred Franklin Forrester, as she went.

 

The man sat himself on the windowsill with Rey. She didn't bother to look up. She's accepted her fate. She had no control over her life. Why would that change now?

 

"Hello, Rey," he said kindly. "My name is Ben Kenobi. I must say, it's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

 

Silence prevailed, and when it didn't cease, she realized it wasn't going to. That brought her head round, and she saw that his hand was extended toward her in greeting—and that there was something else.

 

There was a startling depth of loneliness in his blue eyes, much like what could be found in her own hazel ones.

 

"I've just lost my wife, you see," he said softly. His hair was a brownish red color, and growth lined his cheeks, the beginnings of a beard. "Her name was Satine. She was…" His throat constricted, and those anguished eyes went to the rain. He rubbed a hand slowly over his mouth. "She was everything to me."

 

Rey bit her lip.

 

"She was pregnant… the childbirth was very difficult on her…" he went on. His hand was shaking. "And after some time, I've given it some thought…"

 

Rey was uncertain where he was leading with this. But… just this once… she didn't mind listening to an adult so much.

 

"I'm never going to marry again." He looked back to her.

 

"Ever?" Rey spoke for the first time. "That's—…"

 

"Lonely?" The man laughed, but in a way Rey hadn't heard before. Weak. Defeated. Entirely the opposite of Mrs. Everly. "Yes. It is. But I loved her so much… I don't think I can do it again."

 

"Why are you here, then?" Rey asked.

 

"Because we wanted a child together so very badly," he told her. "Now I've spoken to Mrs. Everly. I understand that you've had a rough time of it. But I believe we can do some good for one another."

 

Rey frowned. Every single bone in her body wanted to trust him.

 

But she was afraid.

 

He chucked her gently beneath the chin and smiled. "What do you say?"

 

"I get a choice?" she asked, confused.

 

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he replied.

 

_Rey!_

Tears welled up on her lashes. Her lips trembled. A sob latched in her throat.

 

"I want—to believe you," she gasped.

 

_Rey! Come on, wake up!_

"It's your choice," he reminded her. "But I hope you will."

 

_REY!_

Her eyes fluttered open.

 

Ben stood over her. Once he saw she wasn't asleep anymore, he relaxed, relief filling his face. He slumped on the edge of the bed.

 

"You were crying," he explained. "Are you okay?"

 

"W-What…?" She sat up, touching her cheeks. Her fingertips came away damp. "Oh… look at that…"

 

"What's wrong?" he asked. He soothed her hair back. "You came home upset. Now this."

 

"I…" Rey wasn't sure if she was ready to tell him yet. She wiped at her face, noticing that it was raining in real life, too. What a depressing evening. She couldn't really remember the last time she had been this unhappy since she'd gotten together with Ben. Maybe it was overdue.

 

"We don't have to go to Thanksgiving," she said. "It was wrong of me to accept their invitation without asking you." She slid back onto her side, rolling away from him. She hooked an arm under her pillow and closed her eyes. She wanted—she didn't know what she wanted. To talk to her father? Yet what good would that do?

 

Ben was quiet.

 

"Goodnight," she sniffled.

 

It wasn't like the conversation would go any further. Tricky waters to navigate, these. While she'd gotten good at reading him, Ben hadn't mastered it with her. Which was fine. He was still learning, and she didn't know what to tell him, anyway.

 

Just as her darkness was dragging her eyes shut in that heavy sort of way that meant impending sleep, he gripped her shoulder with a warm, strong hand.

 

"We can go," he said. "Get some rest. We'll talk more in the morning."

 

Before he could leave her side, she lifted her head. "…Stay with me?"

 

He curled up behind her and tugged her back against his chest. They listened to the rain together, both smothered in a cloud of pain, doing what they always did.

 

Surviving.

 

* * *

 

 

The morning sky was dreary, covered in gray clouds thin enough to promise they'd be hanging about all day. Rey sighed, scrubbing her eyes clear as she climbed out of bed and shuffled off to the bathroom, taking her mobile with her. Her phone was loaded with messages, which she checked dutifully as she took care of business. Some were more important than others, such as the following:

 

_Sitrine: Worried about you. You hung up on me. Haven't heard from you since. Call me, dove._

_Father: We have something we need to discuss, though I suspect Sitrine has gotten to you already. Please call me back._

Ugh, it was far too early for this.

 

She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to think about… anything else. Anything at all.

 

Anything would be better than this.

 

No, she took that back. She didn't want to jinx herself.

 

It was as she was brushing her teeth that she saw it—the medication laid out on the sink.

 

She pulled her hair back off her face and spat carefully. She rinsed her mouth and set her toothbrush in its holder. Reaching out, she picked up one of the bottles, turning it over to read what was inscribed on the label. She would have felt bad about snooping, except it was clear Ben had left these out for her. In the entire time they'd known one another, she hadn't once seen these.

 

A show of trust?

 

There were six bottles.

 

She stopped examining them after the second. She'd seen all she needed to.

 

Sighing, her head turned in the direction of her nightstand on her side of the bed, where she kept her own. Slippers scuffing on the hardwood, she made her way over to them. She pulled open the drawer and held onto the edge of the nightstand. They leered back up at her in challenge. Here they were… that real, final secret.

 

Her fingers closed around her Klonopin, her thumb tracing the warning. The smell of breakfast wafted through the floorboards. Bacon and eggs—pancakes? Maybe Ben had put chocolate chips and bananas in them. She loved it when he did that.

 

She pressed the cap of the bottle to her lower lip, running it along it as she grew lost in her thoughts.

 

The Klonopin was the least of the concerns in there. It was only a benzo, after all, something to deal with her anxiety.

 

But if Ben could do it, so could she.

 

She grabbed the handful of bottles and returned to the bathroom. She displayed them beside Ben's. It wasn't with pride by any means, but rather a quiet dignity. She knew they'd place them in the medicine cabinet later. For now… for now, the point had been made.

 

"My parents… my biological parents… they want to meet me," she said as she came into the kitchen.

 

Ben didn't glance up from the stovetop. "Yeah, well, fuck them."

 

 _Yeah…_ she thought.

 

_Yeah. Fuck them._

"Except it's not that easy," she replied, pressing the heels of her palms to her forehead.

 

"Nothing is," he murmured.

 

"I don't know what to do," she confessed, tears in her eyes.

 

He flipped a pancake onto a prepared plate. They _did_ have chocolate chips and bananas in them.

 

"For now, eat," he suggested. "And then we'll figure out the rest."

 

"When did you get so wise?" she joked through her sniffles.

 

"When I realized making decisions on an empty stomach gets me nowhere," he said, offering her a faint smile and the plate.

 

Her face crumpled, and she started to cry. "Oh, Ben—"

 

He set the plate down and gathered her up in his arms, rubbing her back, quietly shushing her. He tangled a hand in her hair and pressed soft kisses to her hair. For a moment, all that filled the kitchen were the sounds of sizzling bacon and the hiccup of her sobs.

 

And then he whispered something against her ear that made her stop breathing.

 

"Rey, I… maybe—this isn't the right time, but I have to say it while I can… but… I think… I think I'm in love with you."


	49. Secrets Among the Snowflakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Whoo, didn't leave you on that cliffhanger too long!

 

Alderaan was a land of white, nestled deeply in snow. By the looks of things, it was getting ready to hibernate for the coming winter.

 

"Remind me why I'm on this private jet with you and not the prince?"

 

Rey yanked her gaze away from the view of the country below and to Sitrine sitting across from her. "Because you insisted on going with me to the point that I nearly murdered you."

 

"Yes, but why is Solo missing?"

 

She returned to watching the waves crash on the eroding shore. The captain informed them on the intercom that they would be landing shortly. "Father wanted to come early to get to know Ben's parents, and Ben didn't. He'll be arriving the day before Thanksgiving."

 

"Ah."

 

By the way Sitrine was fidgeting, Rey suspected he had more to say. This was confirmed mere moments later.

 

"So what's the matter with you?"

 

Rey stiffened, affronted. "Pardon?"

 

"You've hardly spoken a word since we left except to answer the flight attendant on whether you took your tea with milk and/or sugar."

 

"There's nothing the matter with me." Growing increasingly annoyed, Rey gathered her things together, not that there was much to do in that department. She'd napped part of the way and had stared out the window the rest. But it was better than be on the receiving end of Sitrine's piercing, knowing gaze.

 

It was what made him such a bloody good TA, not that it would take much to deduce that she wasn't feeling very well. However, Sitrine was the last person on earth she wanted to talk to about it, second to her father. Finn, perhaps. Once upon a time, Poe. But definitely not Sitrine.

 

"Something in your expression tells me I should be offended," Sitrine mused with narrowed eyes.

 

"You always were observant," Rey replied with a sweet smile.

 

"Fine. Don't talk to me." He sighed with a dramatic roll of his eyes. It wasn't long, though, before he broke into a devious smile, leaning forward.

 

"Fasten your seatbelt, please," the flight attendant said as she passed.

 

Sitrine did as she'd instructed while speaking, "Alderaan _does_ look very beautiful, dove. Do you think there are any decent pubs here? It seems the nights here will be very cold, and I might need someone to warm me up."

 

Rey groaned. "You are _incorrigible_."

 

"And what does it say, then, that you're my friend?"

 

"It says I make poor life choices," Rey replied.

 

"Oh, now, don't say that," Sitrine _tsked_ , straightening in his leather seat, both hands on the armrests. "Look at where we are. On the way to a damned _castle_ , my dear."

 

_I think I'm in love with you._

"Yes, you're right," she murmured.

 

_I think I'm in love with you._

_in love with you_

_love with you_

"Some aren't poor at all."

* * *

 

 

Ben didn't know what the hell to do with himself.

 

Rey had to be near Alderaan now, if she wasn't there already, and all he could think of was the prospect of being without her. And he _would_ be without her, since he had no intention on seeing his parents any longer than he had to. It was enough, in his opinion, that he'd agreed to go at all, and anyone who knew him or the relationship he had with his parents would know he'd made the right call.

 

But there was a voice in the back of his head, incessantly whispering. Nothing he did could make it go away.

 

 _You told her you loved her—that you_ thought _you loved her—and she didn't say it back._

She hadn't said she hadn't, either—but she hadn't said she _did_.

 

That was the real reason he hadn't gone with her, if he was being honest with himself, which he was so rarely was. Where it concerned Rey, on the other hand, honesty was the one thing he couldn't escape. She made him a better man, and being a better man brought all the bullshit it was loaded with.

 

As he'd suspected his whole life, it was overrated.

 

If it wasn't, then why hadn't she _said it back_?

 

The world being cruel and unfair, well, he'd figured that out early on in life, when he'd overheard his father call him a mistake. But this? This was too much. Delivering Rey to him… lulling him into vulnerability… exposing him… and then _crushing him_ …

 

It was bullshit!

 

Ben swept an arm over the kitchen counter he was leaning against and had the satisfaction of plates he'd been about to clean hitting the floor and shattering.

 

"Fuck!"  

 

He kicked the dishwasher shut and stormed into the living room, whereupon he began pacing, because he had too much energy and nothing to do with it. Oh, sure—he could destroy things until the interior of his house was in ruins. Everything was replaceable. It always had been. Everything except family, everything except love, everything except—

 

Everything except Rey.

 

 _You're overthinking this_.

 

He knew he was. That didn't mean his brain was willing to shut itself off!

 

_She loves you, too. She's just afraid. Give her some space. You told her right after she found out the news about her parents. She needs time to process._

_She wasn't angry. She wasn't upset._

No.

 

No, she'd just stood there, staring at him with wide eyes.

 

_Yes, but she didn't pull away from you in any way._

 

She hadn't. She'd been affectionate, she'd laughed with him, she'd done all the rest. But she'd been distant.

 

_She would have been distant even if you hadn't told her. You know her. She was distant when she came home the night before. She was upset about her parents. Stop being an idiot. Give her space—that's all she needs. Space._

He fell onto his couch, elbows on his knees, face buried in his hands, clumps of hair squeezed tightly in his fingers.

 

What if he couldn't do it?

 

What if he couldn't give her space?

 

_Go to her._

His parents would be there.

 

_Which do you love more? Rey? Or avoiding your parents?_

The birds outside the living room windows chirped cheerfully as the wind made shadows dance over the curtains.

* * *

 

 

"It snows here so early," Sitrine commented, ushered with Rey into a waiting car to take them to the castle. "Didn't you say this was a temperate country?"

 

"I thought it was," she replied. "Although, remembering it now, I suppose it was slightly chilly. I barely noticed at the time. There were too many things going on."

 

"Where's our grand audience?" Her companion pouted in between the violent shivers wracking his tall, lean frame. "There's three people on the street."

 

"No one knew we were coming," Rey answered wryly. "That was the point. Besides, I'm not royalty. I'm only the Crown Prince's girlfriend. Remember?"

 

"Oh, I remember," he said, serving her tone right back to her. "I can hardly escape it. You're on every headline."

 

"Ugh, don't remind me," she sighed. She plucked at her fingertips, eager to get her gloves off. They were woolen on the inside and quickly growing stifling. "And it's not _every_ headline. Just the gossip rags."

 

"And gossip sites—and the bloody Influencers talk about you—and you have to be in disguise to go out in public—"

 

"All right, all right!" Rey griped. "You've made your point."

 

"Have I? Because I feel like I've barely gotten started."

 

Rey folded her arms. "No one _asks_ you to keep up with the famous parts of my life!"

 

Sitrine blinked at her. "But if I don't do that, how will I ever know what's going on? _You_ certainly don't tell me."

 

This was going to be a long holiday.

 

She turned on her mobile.

 

"Expecting a message from Solo?" Sitrine asked.

 

"Not very subtle with your prying, are you?" she muttered.

 

Sitrine paused. "…We're being subtle?"

 

"I don't know why I even try."

 

He grinned. "Neither do I."

 

Her phone _dinged_ , indicating she had a message. Figuring it was her father telling her to inform him when she'd safely landed, she thumbed through her screen. The sight of Ben's name made her stomach squeeze.

 

_Ben Solo: Tell my parents to expect me._

The timestamp was from forty minutes ago.  

 

Sitrine prattled on happily, uncaring that she was ignoring him. He adored the sound of his own voice. So long as no one was talking over him, he could be left unattended to for hours. It was probably the reason he was still single. If one could entertain one's self perpetually, why chain one's self down with a relationship?

 

_He's coming early…_

 

For her. He was coming here early for her.

 

Rey twisted in her seat, cutting off Sitrine's diatribe, "Ben told me he loves me."

 

"And then I told the poor sod— _what_?! You're informing me of this _now_?!"

 

"I didn't say it back." She searched her friend's face.

 

"You didn't? Wait. Hold on. I need to wrap my mind around this." Sitrine shook his head, closing his eyes in disbelief.

 

"And now he's on his way here," Rey continued.

 

"I thought he wasn't going to until—"

 

"He _wasn't_!" She swallowed. "What do I _do_ , Trina?"

 

"Firstly, never call me that again if you want my advice. You know I hate it," Sitrine said severely, placing his arm over the top of the back seat. "Secondly… I don't know, Kenobi. I'm not you. Why didn't you say it back? Do you not love him?"

 

"It's not that," Rey murmured, unable to hold his gaze anymore. Those hazel eyes of Sitrine's were too penetrating indeed.

 

"Then what is it, Rey-Rey?" Sitrine stroked her jawline with the pad of his thumb.

 

"Firstly, never call me that again," she said mock-stiffly around a smile. "You know I hate it."

 

Sitrine flashed his teeth in a grin. They were extra white today. Must have been using those ultra-strips again.

 

"Secondly…" She wet her lips and was grateful that there was a partition between the driver and themselves. This wasn't a conversation that needed to be eavesdropped on and leaked to the paparazzi. "I don't know, either. He said it the morning after you told me about how my parents wanted to talk to me." She pushed her hair behind her ears. "I was frozen with indecision. I still _am_. I feel like I can't give him an answer when my head is so clouded like this."

 

"Well, did you tell him that?" Sitrine crossed one leg over the other, getting more comfortable.

 

"I—no…"

 

"Why not?"

 

"There—" _There wasn't time_ , died on her tongue. There had been plenty of time. "I'm afraid to say the wrong thing. I don't want to lose him, Sitrine." Her brows furrowed.

 

"I don't think you are. He's on his way, isn't he?" Sitrine reminded her gently. "Tell him when he gets here. If he loves you like he says he does, he'll understand and wait until you're ready."

 

"He said he _thinks_ he loves me," Rey specified anxiously. "That's very different."

 

"I think that you pointed out the distinction says you already know how you feel," Sitrine said, showing Rey his natural tendency for this aspect of life. He hid it so well when he wasn't teaching.

 

"…I'm not ready," Rey whispered.

 

"Tell him that," Sitrine reiterated.

 

"But what if I do and he doesn't love me anymore?"

 

It was a mark of their friendship that Sitrine neither laughed nor scoffed. He simply took her into his arms, rubbing her shoulder and resting his cheek atop her head.

 

"Don't be ridiculous," he said softly. "If Ben Solo told you he loved you, he is never letting you go."


End file.
